Fight For Us
by I love Lukey
Summary: What would have happened if Lorelai and Luke had fought for their love the day after she spent the night with Chris? In this story, they don't give up so easily, even after Luke catches Chris dropping her off in the morning.
1. Chapter 1 The Storm

**Fight For Us**

**Chapter 1: The Storm**

**By: I Love Lukey**

**This scene starts later that evening, in "Partings"; then it picks up at the end of "The Long Morrow." Lorelai begged Luke to run away and marry her. He didn't answer her immediately. So, in typical Lorelai fashion, she overreacted. In the series she slept with Christopher, ensuring that she and Luke would break up. In this version, she spends some time with Chris, but leaves the door open to fight for their relationship. And fight they do, instead of just giving up and walking away. They have some serious issues to work out.**

**Italicized words at the beginning are text from the series.**

~*~*~

_Christopher heard a knock at his door and appeared surprised to see Lorelai standing there when he opened it._

"_Hey," he said._

"_Hey," she echoed him, almost crying._

"_You okay?" he asked, concerned._

"_Uh, I'm having a really bad night, and, um... I just don't want to be alone. Okay?" _

"_Yeah. Uh, come on in. What's going on?" he asked, noticing her red-rimmed eyes._

"I just need a drink and a friend, preferably the former. And keep 'em coming," she deplored.

"What happened?" he asked again. "Is Rory alright?"

"She's fine, it's Luke. Yeah, go ahead and say it. You told me so. We were only together _for now_." She sniffled.

"Lor, I'm sorry. I didn't really want that to happen," he said sincerely.

"No, Chris. This time it isn't your fault. It isn't Emily's fault. It isn't any one else's fault. I managed to mess it up all on my own," she cried.

"Oh, I doubt that." He turned, inspecting his bar. "First thing's first. What will it be? Scotch, vodka, gin, tequila?"

"Oy, with the tequila already!" she managed to retort.

"Ok, no tequila." They both remembered the last time they drank tequila. "So, gin martini, two olives, it is."

"You always know me so well, Chris," she said, looking at his face for the first time that night.

"Come on, tell me all about it."

Lorelai took the drink and took a seat on the sleek, black leather couch. She recounted the entire story about the ultimatum, and Luke allowing her to walk out of his life.

Chris sat quietly the entire time, listening to not only what she said, but also to how she said it. They downed a couple of drinks, then Chris finally spoke.

"So you really love him, don't you?"

"Yes, I really do," she answered. "I just drove him out of my life, like I drove all the men out, including you," she sniffed again.

"Well, I never accused him of being smart. But allowing you to walk away like that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of," Chris chided. "If you ever came to me…"

"It's not his fault," she protested.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I don't have a right to criticize anyone's choices. Look at what a state my life is in. Gigi's mother is in Paris, and I'm home playing Mr. Mom."

They continued to drink and lament over their failed relationships for several hours. "I guess I should go now." She stumbled to her feet, and quickly fell back on the couch. "But, apparently, I'm wasted," she sighed, laughing softly.

"You can't drive home, and I'm no condition to drive you myself. So stay here tonight. I'll take the couch," he offered.

"No, I can't kick you out of your bed, that isn't right," she protested, as she pulled him by the arm into the bedroom. She really needed some human contact. She couldn't bear to be alone, and Chris always loved her.

They collapsed on the bed together, and scooted close. "I just felt my life with Luke spiraling out of control. I didn't know what to do. He was freezing me out. He wouldn't talk to me, and he wouldn't let me near his daughter, let alone be part of her life. I should have been there, right next to him, and he needed me there. He needed me, but he didn't want me. That's the worst part of all."

She sobbed softly as Christopher held her close. They were both on their sides, with Chris curved behind her back. He had one arm wrapped protectively around her waist; their fingers interlocked above the pillow they shared. They fell comfortably asleep, fully clothed, on top of the comforter.

~*~*~

Luke showed up at Lorelai's house, first thing in the morning. He'd been tossing and turning all night, kicking himself in the ass for being such a jerk.

Why did he have to mull everything over? Jeez, he took eight full years just to kiss Lorelai. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his life was with her, now and forever. If that meant he had to be more spontaneous, well then, Spontaneous was his middle name. His bags were packed; he had a tank full of gas, and a Thomas Guide in his truck. They'd go away, anywhere she wanted. He'd marry her today. He pulled up to Lorelai's house, trying to imagine where their first kiss as husband and wife would be. His eager smile faded as he noticed her Jeep was missing.

"What the…where the heck is she?" he muttered.

He parked in the driveway and got out, then cleared all the steps to the porch in one bound. He peered into the door windows. Just as he turned to head down the stairs, a familiar sleek Mercedes pulled up behind his truck. He stopped in his tracks to see shadows in the vehicle lean toward, then linger near, each other. Luke's stomach felt like it had been kicked by a steel-toed boot. He sucked in his breath. If it had been possible, his eyes would have seared a hole through the tinted window, right through Christopher's skull.

At the sight of Luke's truck, she immediately felt panic rising. Lorelai exited the car and quickly walked around. The jolt of adrenaline hit her system and she knew there would be big trouble if she didn't stop it before it started. Running up the walk to meet him at the stairs, she said, "Hi Luke, um hey, listen, Chris was just giving me a ride home. Stupid, weak battery in my Jeep," she tried to explain.

She could see him taking in the situation. Her hair was wild; she had no make-up on, except for remnants of mascara under her eyes. Her clothes were the same ones that she had been wearing the night before, with the addition of Chris's expensive sports coat, draped casually over her shoulders.

"Luke, wait." She tried to stop him as he brushed passed her, steamrollering toward the coupe.

Luke rapped on the driver's side window with the back of his knuckles, saying, "Hey buddy, what's going on?"

Christopher rolled down his window, "Morning!" he said, annoyingly cheerful.

Lorelai stayed back near the steps, holding her breath. She watched worriedly as Luke leaned over to face Chris, but she couldn't hear what was being said.

"What the hell Chris?" Luke said. "Why are you anywhere near my fiancée?"

Chris got out of his car, and leaned casually on the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. He lowered his voice. "I'm waiting for you to screw it up." He smirked, as he watched Luke balling up his fists, breathing so hard that he nearly snorted at him. "You want to hit me, don't you?" Chris egged him on. "Go ahead. I did all the comforting last night, if you know what I mean," he said, raising his eyebrows. "So, I guess it's my turn to receive a little TLC."

Luke glanced over to Lorelai, who was watching from the safety of the porch. He feared that if he moved, he would kill this chump.

Chris noticed Luke's white knuckles, and feeling foolishly brave, he continued. "You hit me, and Lorelai's maternal instinct kicks in. Me being Rory's father, and all. Oh, it'll hurt; you'll probably beat me to a bloody pulp. But, I'll be invited in for some frozen peas and sympathy, and you'll be out on your ass."

Luke's concern was still focused on Lorelai. He didn't want her to see him lose complete control. If he nibbled the bait, and struck this pansy, she would hate him. As much as Luke wanted to pummel the jerk, he had a point, he was, and always would be, Rory's father.

"You know, I had forgotten how good her hair smells," Chris started again, knowing that he had struck a chord. "Did you notice that it smells like jasmine? I always loved her shampoo." He looked up, seeming to reminisce about it. "I bet my pillow still smells like her."

Luke was fixed in place. His eyes locked on Christopher's. His entire world seemed to freeze in that moment. His chest was pounding. His limbs felt like lead. He couldn't breathe, and he didn't blink.

After a long uncomfortable stare, and not getting a fraction of the reaction he expected, Chris spoke quietly but steadily, laying out his plan. "I tell you what. You be you, and I'll be me. She'll be back where she belongs when she's done slumming. I can wait."

A stunned Luke took a couple of steps backward. He removed and replaced his cap. Christopher called to Lorelai, "Bye, Lor! My guys will take care of the Jeep. I'll call you later." He swung into his car, then silently backed out of the driveway, and drove away.

Christopher's recap of his night with Lorelai cut right through to all of Luke's deepest insecurities. Luke wasn't a blueblood like Lorelai. He'd never fit into her world. As much as he loved her, and he knew she loved him, their backgrounds were worlds apart. Although she rejected the lifestyle of high society, she at least knew the world of cotillions and trust funds. She knew the code language of the country club rich. She could blend in seamlessly and hob-knob with the DAR ladies. Usually, Luke stood idly by, feeling like an ill-dressed peon. Luke believed that Christopher was right about the slumming. He often felt like he should be entering through the servants' door when he went to the Gilmores' manor, and he knew Emily would have preferred it that way.

After several silent seconds staring at his hands, Luke turned to look at Lorelai. She expected to see anger in his eyes. Instead, she saw something much worse. His face had dropped. His shoulders sagged, as his eyebrows came up together to form an inverted vee. He looked at her up and down, to once again assess the situation. This time his eyes stopped at her ring finger. It was bare. He felt his relationship vaporize in front of his eyes. His life and his future, with the woman he loved, were gone. She wasn't his slightly goofy, chatterbox Lorelai any longer. She was Lorelai Gilmore, daughter of Richard and Emily Gilmore, heir to an estate that he knew nothing about managing or protecting, citizen to a world he didn't belong.

He turned heel and headed back to the truck.

"Luke! Wait!" she shouted, following him.

He stopped, chin near his chest. "Lorelai, not now," he breathed.

"But, Luke! I swear, it's not what you think," she cried.

"Lorelai, please, not now," he commanded, as he turned to face her. When their eyes met, he blinked, causing two large, salty tears to roll down his cheeks. Not hiding the tears, he stood a little straighter and jutted out his chin.

Lorelai was stunned. Luke was crying! Her strong and unflappable Luke was crying. Lorelai didn't know what to do. For the first time in a long time she was speechless. It broke her heart to see him like this. She knew she shouldn't have gone to the familiar comfort of Christopher. She knew how jealous Luke could get. But, she truly had no idea how much Luke despised Christopher. Nor did she know how much this shook Luke to the core, at least not until a moment ago, when she saw the devastation in his eyes.

"I trusted you and you do this! With him!" Luke spat out. All traces of sadness now replaced with precariously controlled fury.

Lorelai instinctively recoiled, "Okay, I guess I deserved that, but you don't know what happened. Just hear me out."

Wiping his eyes with the rolled cuff of his flannel shirt, he took two swift steps toward her. "I trusted you. You lied to me before, now I catch you with him. And you want to talk about it?" he spat, punctuating each line with a point of his finger.

"Listen Luke, I'm sorry. I know this looks bad. But you've been pushing me away, too. Pushing me away for months. I didn't know where to go or who to turn to," she cried.

"So you turn to him? You seek out his comfort? I knew you'd never be able to stay out of his life, but I never thought you'd have trouble staying out of his bed!" he yelled. His words were so harsh, each one landed like a blade through her heart. But, she knew he was right. She had to explain.

"I'm trying to tell you something, and all you want to believe is the worst. After all we've been through, and all the feelings we have for each other, you still want to believe the worst in me?" she screamed back, wanting her words to hurt him as much as his hurt her.

"I believe what I see, Lorelai," he said. "I see you with him, here in the morning. You, looking like something the cat dragged in, with yesterday's clothes on. You're in his jacket, smelling like him." His voice raised a few decibels before he was able to control it again. "Are you denying that you slept with him?" he asked, looking her straight in the eye.

She lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze. She vowed never to lie to Luke again, especially when it came to Chris. Luke could always see right through her. She didn't want to lose him again by hiding information, like she did last time. She wasn't' going to start lying now. She opened her mouth, wondering how in the world she'd explain this, but nothing came out.

"Tell me Lorelai, where's the ring?" he asked, gesturing with a nod of his head toward her hand.

"What?" She thought, then looked down at her finger. "I was upset, yesterday when you refused to answer me. I was so hurt… and confused… that you let me walk away. I…I took it off."

"So, let's see." He counted off on his fingers, one for each point made. "You hit me with an ultimatum. I don't jump though your hoop fast enough. So, you take off your engagement ring. Our ring. The one that symbolizes our everlasting love. Then, you go to the father of your child's house, who by the way, has broken us up before. And you spend the night with him?" His eyes pierced through hers.

"Yeah, I guess you'd see it that way," she sighed, defeated.

"Is there any other way to see it?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Luke, please come inside. Let's talk about this. Let's sit down and talk about this, please," she begged.

"I just don't see the point. I give up. This is…I can't do this. I can't live with all this drama," he conceded.

"No, don't do this. You cannot give up on us. Please come inside." She held the door open, pleading with her eyes. He took a deep breath, then took one step back.

"Luke! You do this every time! Something gets difficult and you turn into an armadillo, balled up and hiding inside your armor. You don't even have the guts to come in and hear what happened. You don't even have the courage to find out! I always thought you were the mature one, you were the adult and I was the flighty one. Now I can see you're not who I thought. I thought you loved me, but all you can do is hide. Then go on; crawl back into your shell. You aren't a man at all. A real man would fight for the one he loves. Fight for us.

Her angry words snapped him back into fighting mode, and his entire body flexed. Veins in his neck were bulging, and his face was turning red, "What the hell are you talking about? I would _die_ for you. I would _die_ for Rory. I have embraced all of you, and your craziness, into my world." He gestured as if his arms were wrapped around a large tree. "I would sell my soul to Satan if it meant keeping you two from hurting." He stopped to catch his breath. Then spoke more slowly, "You make it impossible with your hysterics. Slinging out ultimatums and deadlines. Give a man a minute to think, won't you? You're yammering away all the time. I can't get a word in edgewise, let alone a coherent thought."

Through his rant, he noticed Lorelai's focus was elsewhere. He followed her gaze and saw Babette and Miss Patty across the street, heads together, listening intently to the argument.

"Please, come inside," she asked again.

He stepped into her living room and looked around sadly. He thought about how he was going to miss her and her warm home.

"Luke, I believe what you said about protecting me and Rory. I know you love us, and I know she adores you. But that's part of it," she said.

"Part of what?"

"I let you in. I let you near her," she explained. "I allowed you into our lives."

"How is that a problem?"

"Chris isn't even as close to Rory as you are. I never let him in like I've let you in. He never even really wanted to be that involved," she tried to explain.

His spine stiffened at her ex's name. "I still don't get how my being in Rory's life is the problem," he reiterated.

"You won't let me in," she repeated.

"What?" He scratched his whiskers, clearly confused.

"With April. The most amazing thing has happened to you and you won't allow me to be in your daughter's life? Don't you see how hurtful that is for me? Don't you see how that breaks my heart?"

"But I'm barely in her life as it is. I don't know how it works. I was locked out for twelve years. Now I find myself with a whole new definition. I am a _father_. I don't know what to do. I'm so afraid that Anna is going to take her away from me again, before I even get to know her."

"But Luke, I'm here too. I need you, too. We should be doing this together. Why does it have to be one or the other? Why can't we both be in your heart? Don't you have room for both of us?"

"I don't know," he said softly, shaking his head.

"You don't know?" she asked. "You don't know. What the hell kind of answer is that?"

"I don't know if I have room in my heart for someone I don't trust." His voice was low and steady. He looked her directly in the eyes. "I know I don't have room in my heart for someone who runs off to fuck her ex because she doesn't get her way."

She reeled back her hand and slapped him hard across the face. A loud smack was audible as his head snapped away from the blow. There was a red imprint on the left side of his face.

His insinuation wasn't just aimed at the situation; it struck at the issue of their social differences. He was implying that she was a spoiled rich girl who was having a tantrum because Daddy wouldn't buy her a dolly. She felt so betrayed by him. He knew how hard she worked at making her way alone in this world, and at carving out a niche for Rory and herself. He knew how she rejected all the privileges that suffocated her as a child. She never once felt superior to him, and now he was throwing her background in her face. Did he refuse to run away with her yesterday because he just didn't want her to have her way? Was she wrong all these years about him understanding who she truly was, and what mattered most to her?

He turned back to look at her again, not touching his face, or wavering in the slightest, and warned her with a low throaty growl, "Don't you ever do that again."

Taking it as a challenge, she pulled her arm back and swung again. This time he was ready. He easily caught her hand and grasped it. She swung again with her left hand and he snatched it too. Struggling and crying, "Because I didn't get my way? You reduce this to me not getting my way? I hate you! You son of a bitch!" He allowed her to twist and pull for several moments before he clamped on to each of her wrists, gripping with iron talons. She didn't have the strength to budge them. She feebly attempted to free her now numbing hands. They locked eyes; he was not letting go.

Exhausted emotionally and physically, with tears streaming down her face, she was no match for his strength. Her knees buckled and she collapsed where they stood. Sobbing as she fell, he held tightly onto her wrists to control the velocity of her drop. He went down with her and landed on one knee; they both hit the carpeted floor simultaneously.

He knew he'd gone too far. It wasn't like him to use such harsh words with her. But the thoughts of Christopher touching Lorelai kept creeping in. He wanted to push those horrible pictures out of his mind. Badgering her into slapping him actually felt better that the emotional pain he was suffering. His mind kept bringing up images of Lorelai and Christopher, that bastard's hands on her, laughing, and kissing her. Their tongues touching. The thought of Lorelai calling out Christopher's name, instead of his own, was too much; he couldn't take it.

This time it wasn't blind fury he felt, but utter despair. He could never get over this. He knew himself. They could make up now, but he'd never, ever be able to get over this infidelity. Luke Danes was a lot of things, but unfaithful was not one of them. It was better just to go now, than to pretend to live with a circumstance that he knew he was absolutely incapable of accepting.

He looked at Lorelai now, sobbing quietly on the floor, wondering where he was going to find the super-human strength he needed to walk out that door.

"I'm going to let go now," he stated, not really needing to warn her.

She nodded; she didn't have any fight left in her. Rubbing her wrist as she sniffed. She sat down on the floor, legs crossed in front of her.

"I just wanted to be with you, Luke. To love you and have you love me back," she sobbed. "I would have settled to be just a part of your life. But you wouldn't let me. You are everything to me."

"Then why would you do this to us?" he asked. "I can't get over this. You know that. You know I don't have it in me to see past this betrayal," he whispered, sitting down next to her.

"That's just it, Luke. You won't listen to me. I've been trying to tell you. I did so many things wrong last night. I should never have given you an ultimatum. I should never have gone to Christopher's house. I know that. I was wrong and I'm sorry. I will never, ever go to Christopher again … for consolation." Luke clenched his teeth at the last phrase. "We can do this; we can work it out."

"You don't have to promise me anything, Lorelai," he spoke in a barely audible whisper, his eyes closed. "There is no 'us' anymore, there is no 'we.'"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you giving up on us?" she asked, eyes brimming with tears again.

"I can't live with pictures of Chris's hands on you, fingers running through your hair, kissing you, making lo…" He choked, then pressed his face into his hands.

"Luke, I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. I swear. Yes, I was there; I spent the night because we got drunk, too drunk to drive. You were right about the bed. I will totally own up to that, I can't lie to you." He sucked in some air and sat up, working his jaw as she continued. "But we did not make love. We didn't even kiss. We fell asleep together, that's all. I swear. I was crying over you the whole time, so scared that I had lost you forever. We were together, because I couldn't bear to be alone, but we weren't _together._

"So you're saying?" He led her to continue.

"We didn't have sex. At all. No sex was had," she stated clearly.

"But Christopher said…"

"Christopher? What did he say?" she snapped. "He's just getting back at you for hurting me. He doesn't know how to act around you. He really was trying to protect me, in his weird way." She tried to explain. "You intimidate him. You're everything he's not. He's been living off his trust fund, in the shadow of his father, all his life. He's been enjoying the perks of wealth and privilege that he never earned. And, up until now, being a father to Gigi, he never did one thing that mattered. You are your own man, your own boss. You made it on your own, and you answer to nobody. That just kills him."

Luke sat up a little straighter. "So, there was no…?" He held both palms open, not able to say the words.

"Luke, I would never do that to us," she continued. "I was hurt and angry and felt isolated. I was wrong, but I'm not that self-destructive. I would never hurt you that way. But there are some things, things that you have done," she hesitated. "You may not know how much you hurt me these past few months."

"What? Tell me. Whatever it is, I'll fix it." He was feeling better now, a glimmer of hope for their relationship returning to his heart.

"You postponed our wedding," she whispered, voice cracking.

"But you said you were okay with that," he replied. Then he looked at her trembling lips. "Oh, no. How can you be okay with that? You're the bride. I should have realized. You bought the perfect dress, and everything."

"No, I need to own some of this, too. I let you believe that it was all right and I pretended to be cool with it. That's not the way to start a marriage," she sniffed.

He tenderly brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "Come here," he said, pulling her into his strong arms. They both took a few deep, relaxing breaths and leaned into each other, already beginning to feel their relationship healing.

Biting her lip to keep it from quivering, she said, "You needed me but you didn't want me, you didn't want my help. You froze me out, and that was the worst, " she breathed, blinking back the tears.

"I didn't handle the news of fatherhood very well. Sometimes it takes me a while to process information." He ran his finger along her jaw line to calm her lip.

"Lorelai, I never told you this, but I've wished about a hundred times that Rory was my daughter. Ever since I laid eyes on that porcelain doll of yours, she was so smart, with your blue eyes, she had me wrapped around her finger. It broke my heart to think that she was going home, and she didn't have a daddy there. A little girl should have a daddy to protect her, and to search the closet for monsters. To warn her about boys."

"Now, I keep thinking of all the time I could have had with April, and how I should have been allowed to love April like that. I am the daddy, and I wasn't there. I can't get the time back, and I'm afraid I'm going to lose what little time I do have left to watch her grow. I know I can be a great father. I just have so much to make up, and I don't' know where to start." He held her hands in his. "I'm sorry. I did need you. I do need you, especially with the way Anna is acting. I don't know what to do about her. We can't live with her dangling custody over our heads like a sword."

They sank down on the soft carpet, embracing and thinking silently for several minutes. Luke was on his back and Lorelai on her side, with her head on his shoulder, listening to the familiar, comforting sound of his heart.

"Do you have any suggestions on what to do?" he asked, taking the first step toward letting her help him.

"Maybe we can get a lawyer," she suggested. "You have rights, and she's trampling all over them."

"Yeah, we can do that," he said.

"So, we're a 'we'?" she asked tentatively.

He kissed her softly on the temple, and pulled her closer, "We're a 'we.'"

~*~*~

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2 The Calm After the Storm

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 2: The Calm After the Storm**

_"So, we're a 'we'?" she asked tentatively._

_He kissed her softly on the temple, and pulled her closer, "We're a 'we.'"_

They remained on the living room floor. Luke was staring at he ceiling, his heart filled with love and relief that he hadn't blown it, and let the person he loved most in the world slip through his fingers. Lorelai, using his arm as a pillow, was relishing the softness of his flannel, and the warmth of his touch. She was still listening to the sound of his heart, thankful that they were able to fight through the toughest patch in their relationship to date.

"Can we just stay here for a while?" she asked, still insecure, sounding like a frightened child. She needed his touch, his physical proximity, like she needed air to breathe. "Don't go, okay?" Lorelai tightened her already snug grip around his chest, pulling herself closer into him.

"I'm not going anywhere," he answered in a steady voice, instantly calming her. He, too, increased the pressure of his embrace. Both lovers were relishing the moment, hanging on for deal life. "But, we're eventually going to have to get up. Did you eat anything?"

"I'm not hungry," she snuggled in closer to him.

"What? Did the Cubs win the World Series?" he teased.

"No fair using football metaphors with me, I already have a headache."

"It wasn't a football metaphor." He smiled, then his face grew concerned, "You have a headache?"

"Yes, I need some coffee, so no more hockey terms, please."

"Not hockey either, but coffee I can do. How about if I make you some pancakes?"

"Well, I'd hate to have the coffee get lonely. I guess I should have a tall stack with chocolate chips to keep it company. I'm just going to get showered. " She kissed him, then rose up to her feet. He followed, and they gazed at each other, neither wanting to be the first to leave.

"Go on, I'll get you some breakfast."

She kissed him again and asked, "So, baseball?"

"Yep." He nodded.

"I knew that," she said, bounding up the stairs.

~*~*~

Once in the bathroom, she turned on the water and allowed it heat, causing steam to rise almost instantly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and grimaced. Picking up a lock of hair, she sniffed it. Nothing. Then she sniffed her arm, still nothing. She removed her blouse, and held it to her face, trying to catch a whiff of Christopher. _You, looking like something the cat dragged in… smelling like him._ Luke's voice resonated in her mind. Did she really smell like Christopher?

Looking in the mirror, she had to agree that she really did look like something the cat dragged in. She turned her back on her reflection and peeled the rest of her wrinkled clothes off. Adjusting the water to her usual, almost-too-hot temperature, she stepped under the generous stream of water, allowing it to massage her neck and back for a short while.

She bathed quickly, lathering up and rinsing off. She felt anxious to get back downstairs, subconsciously afraid that Luke might not be there. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a blue hoodie. Glancing in the mirror, she decided that she needed some concealer for the dark circles under her puffy eyes. She tried to downplay the raging hangover she had, so she needed to at least look presentable. She glided on some lip-gloss, then pattered barefoot down the stairs, pulling her wet hair into a ponytail as she went. She noticed the delicious pancake aroma as she descended. She could also make out the smell of coffee, which perked her up in anticipation. She detected another smell, one just as delicious, but unexpected.

"I can't believe it! You made me coffee, pancakes, _and_ popcorn for breakfast!" She was practically giddy. She hugged him from behind, as he removed a bag of popcorn from the microwave. "See, I told you popcorn was the perfect breakfast food. It's corn, which is a cereal. And you pop it, like a Poptart, and it smells so good, like bacon or waffles! I knew you'd see it my way, sooner or later."

"Okay, Richard Simmons, calm down. The popcorn is for the ducks."

"What ducks?"

"At the park, I thought we could take a walk and feed the ducks."

"Really? You want to feed the ducks?"

"You don't want to go?"

"Of course I want to go, but you _never_ want to feed the ducks," she said. "I always say, 'Hey, wouldn't it be nice to go feed the ducks,' and you say, 'No, ducks suck, I hate ducks.'"

"I have never said, 'Ducks suck.' And I don't hate ducks."

"Well, you _alluded_ to it."

"It's not that I don't want to feed them, it's just that they really shouldn't be fed," he said.

"Yeah, what if everyone fed them?" she chimed in.

"Yeah, if everyone fed them, then they'd just get fat and lazy and … oh, I see what you're doing here." He smiled, catching on that she was trying to lead him into a rant. He continued in a modulated voice, "You like to feed them, and I want to spend some time with you. We'll feed them popcorn. I hear it's better for them than bread, and it doesn't muck up the pond."

"Ha! Muck up!" she said, eating her breakfast quickly in anticipation of their outing.

She watched him put another bag in the microwave, press the buttons, and transfer the contents of the paper bag into a larger plastic bag. When the second bag was done, he transferred that popcorn into the larger bag also.

"What are you doing?" she asked between bites. "Putting popcorn from a bag into a bag?"

"I'm making sure the unpopped kernels don't get in with the rest of the popcorn. It can't be good for the ducks, although we're probably killing them anyway with this artificial buttery flavoring," he grumped.

"Oh, yeah we wouldn't want them to choke on the kernels, or we might end up with a _dead duck_." She laughed at her joke before taking a generous swig of coffee. For some reason she couldn't control her babbling.

Luke shook his head.

"Oh, and if the duck tripped, and hurt his little webbed foot…"

"Don't say it!" Luke appealed.

"…he'd be a _lame duck_." She finished, despite his request.

"Oh, brother," Luke rolled his eyes. "I had to come up with feeding the ducks."

~*~*~

They walked together to the park chatting animatedly until they came to the footbridge that crossed over a narrow part of the pond. They sat in the shade and a single duck paddled up to them before they even opened the bag.

"You got here first, you _lucky duck_!" Lorelai twittered, as she dropped half a handful of popcorn into the pond, then put the rest in her own mouth.

"You just ate a huge breakfast, leave some popcorn for the ducks." Luke scolded her.

"Jeez, can't a girl have a little post-breakfast snack?" she asked?

He shook his head.

They sat for a while, as they watched ducks appear from hidden recesses of the pond. The ducks quacked and flapped, trying to get as much popcorn as they could. Luke and Lorelai laughed at the ones who turned completely upside down, with their tails in the air, making jokes about DA's and the Pope's Nose. They commented on the colorful feathers, and how some of them appeared iridescent. Lorelai even began naming the ducks after expired politicians, coining one Winston, and another Ike.

"As much fun as this is, you didn't really want to just feed the ducks did you?" Lorelai asked, tossing some more tidbits, already knowing the answer.

"No." He shook his head.

"We still need to talk?"

"We do," he said staring out over the pond, allowing his legs to dangle over the side of the footbridge.

"Okay," she replied, knowing that he was right, but his tone sent a shiver through her, nonetheless.

"I almost killed Christopher today," he said, his voice eerily calm.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to kill him myself sometimes."

"No. Not like that."

"What did he say to you? I need to know whether you acted in self-defense. I need to know whether I should say, 'No officers, I didn't see a thing,' or whether I should put an unregistered pistol in his cold dead hands."

"You'd commit a felony for me?"

"Of course, I'd be the Bonnie to your Clyde, the Butch to your Sundance, the Thelma to your Louise," she said, attempting to keep the conversation light.

"That's so…thoughtful," he scoffed. Then, more quietly, he said, "It's actually pretty stupid, now that I think about it. 'Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please be lenient. After all, he said that her hair smells good.'" He smirked, pretending he was a lawyer addressing twelve angry men.

"That's not stupid," she said, turning to face him, and pulling her legs in to cross in front of her.

"But, really. I almost physically killed him. I wasn't going to hurt him. I was going to kill him," he said, his voice full of fear, and something that sounded like shame. He turned toward Lorelai and held her gaze. She knew that he was serious.

"You need to tell me what he said." Her voice was finally losing its levity.

"It's not just what he said, it was the whole situation. I hate him. I hate everything about him. Up until now, I've never hated anyone in my life; but I hate him. It's kind of a guy thing. I can't explain it, verbalizing it makes it sound so petty."

"I can relate to it being a 'guy thing' and all, but maybe I can help clarify things."

Luke took a deep breath, then let all the air out slowly, "With the hair thing, he said that you left your scent on his pillow; he even described your smell." His jaw clenched and relaxed several times. "I told you it was stupid."

"It's not stupid, not at all." Tears started pricking her eyes at the thought of how much pain her insecurities had caused him.

"I just wanted to rip his head off. He was goading me, Lorelai. He _wanted_ me to hit him. He knew just what to say to twist the knife. I knew what he was doing too, but it didn't prevent my body from reacting physically. The whole fight or flight response; it was all fight. He came so close to getting me to snap. And, I would have, too, if you hadn't been there watching. If I had started, it would have been the end. There was no one there who could have stopped me. I watch the news, and people commit crimes of passion, and I thought that could never happen to me. But, you know what, it almost did. I would have ended his life with my own hands."

Lorelai sat in stunned silence, listening to Luke admit his fears. She could see his hands trembling; he tried to hide the tremors by throwing some more popcorn.

"He hid behind the fact that he was Rory's father, too, that chicken shit bastard. You know, I kept thinking of her face and how sad she would be if her father were dead. I don't care how absent he was, that still would be devastating for her. You mentioned self-defense, and it was, in a way. I was defending my life, our lives together. I almost lost it all. If I had killed him, it would all be gone. You and Rory, April, the diner, my freedom, all gone. He kept it up. He rubbed it in how he was right for you and I didn't belong. The hell of it is, he's right. He's going to wait for you, he'll always be there, he'll always be more right for you than I am."

"That's not true. You _are_ the man for me. Please don't let him have that power over us." Lorelai said, her voice rising slightly.

"You gave him power when you went to him. You told him our problems; you shared your insecurities with him. You chose to go to him and drown your sorrows."

"Luke, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you in that situation. I wasn't thinking straight."

"I know you're sorry. You don't have to keep saying that. But, the fact of the matter is, you went to him. You didn't go to Rory, Sookie, or even your mother. You went to Chris. What were you looking for? And what does that say about us?"

"I couldn't go to Rory because she has Logan's injuries to worry about. I couldn't pile anything else on her. But, I did go to Sookie and Jackson. I just couldn't tell them what was happening with us, because I didn't know. Luke, I was so out of sorts, and felt so isolated from you, that I actually did go to my mother."

"Was she giddy with glee? Finally, I screwed up, and now you can be with Golden Boy?"

"No, she wasn't giddy with glee. She was supportive, and there for me." Remembering how hard it was for her to tell her mother that there would be no wedding, Lorelai swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears that were, once again, eager to spill from her eyes. "She saw her daughter hurting and broken-hearted. Of course she wasn't happy about it. She knows how much I love you, and the thought of me losing you saddened her deeply."

"Yeah, I imagine she would come through for you," he conceded. "But why couldn't you come to me. Why did you have to go to _him_."

"I don't know, maybe I was looking for some validation that I'm worthy of having it all. You know, the whole package. It seems to keep eluding me. Last night I was devastated. Chris is someone who always wanted me; he's always been the back burner guy. The reserve. Going to him was a way to fill the emptiness I felt when I thought that that I no longer had a place in your life."

"If you're going to be all in with me, you can't have a back-burner guy. There is no room for a reserve," he said sternly. "What about us? You lost your faith in us."

"I don't know what came over me. I was so insecure. I don't have an answer for you other than I love you so much, I can't imagine a life without you," she said softly, her voice cracking.

"I used to think that love was enough. It's a huge part, the most important part. We have the love, I know that, but we have so many issues, so many things to get over," he said.

"We do have issues, I admit that. But our love _is_ enough. We have enough to get through anything. We need to be together, please don't say it's not enough," Lorelai pleaded.

"I'm willing to work through it, but I need a few concessions from you."

She nodded.

"I need a pass," he said, dipping his chin.

"A pass?"

"Yes. A pass for all things Christopher related. I can't keep you from him, and it wouldn't be fair to Rory to make her choose which parent to have at important functions. But for now, and the foreseeable future, I need a pass. You don't ask me, or expect me to go anywhere he might be. I will not go to a wedding, a christening, a party, or even a funeral if he's there. If we're there and he shows up, I get a pass. You don't have to come with me, but I get to leave. And I will leave, every time, with no questions asked. I have April to worry about now, and she doesn't deserve a father who's in prison. Can you live with that?"

"Yes," Lorelai answered, knowing that her only option was to agree.

They walked back to Lorelai's house quietly; each lost in their own thoughts. When they reached the house, Luke walked her to the door and stopped there.

"Aren't you coming in?" she asked.

"No, I think I'll take my first pass. You'll be getting a call later, I think you should deal with it privately," Luke said, pulling away from her.

"Ok," she nodded, doing a terrible job of hiding her disappointment.

"And when Christopher's "guys" come back with your Jeep, you're going to want to give them his jacket," Luke said steadily. "I don't want him to have any excuse to return. Besides, it's stinking up the house."

Lorelai cringed, and softly closed he door.

***

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3 Tempest Tossed

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 3 Tempest Tossed**

Lorelai awakened with a start to the sound in her head_. Slap!_ Her eyes flew open and she felt her heart pounding in an attempt to leap out of her chest as she tried to orient herself. Her gut wrenched, and a shiver of dread shot through her spine when she recognized the dream as a manifestation of reality. _What have I done? _she thought.

She blinked back the light that glowed from her living room windows and tried to guess the time. Unable to immediately process the reality around her, the events of the day tumbled into her consciousness in an unsteady, non-linear stream: The ultimatum, the slap, the fight, the tears, the night with Christopher, and the ring. Each event bringing in a new recognition that her life was in serious upheaval.

Rising from the couch to check the kitchen clock, Lorelai stumbled clumsily, trying to gain her equilibrium. It was late afternoon and she had taken a much longer nap than planned. She had an exhausting, emotional night, and an even more emotional morning; the excessive amount of alcohol the night before didn't help either.

Her stomach was growling in protest since she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and with her metabolism, skipping a meal was akin to most people fasting for a week. She filled a glass of water and drank it, along with four aspirins. There was no food in the fridge, but she was able to find some Lucky Charms Cereal, which she ate by the handful, directly out of the box. She wandered around her living room aimlessly, still trying to put the recent events in order.

She spied Chris's jacket draped over the back of the couch. Remembering the night with Chris, Luke's angry words, …_smelling like him,_ resonated in her mind. She peered out the window and noticed her Jeep was in the driveway. Chris must have sent his 'guys' as promised, but his sports coat was still there. She picked it up and held it to her face. Luke was right; it held Chris's scent as clearly if he had been standing in the room next to her.

She noticed her answering machine blinking, and pressed the button with trepidation. It was the call that sent Luke away from her today, the call that she had been dreading. Chris's voice echoed, tinny and thin, through the speaker, _"Hey Lor, it's me. I sent the guys to drop off your Jeep. It's as good as new; the battery is new anyway. I wanted to talk to you, but I guess you're not there. Um, I really miss having you here. I wish we could do that more often. Let's make a date for sometime this week. How about, well, any day except Friday, I guess, since that's when you dine with your parents. Call me. Love you." _Lorelai stood with her eyes closed, taking in his words, cringing at his closure. For the first time ever, she sensed danger from Chris. Danger that his presence would fray the fragile threads that were tying her life to Luke's. She punched the delete button firmly, trying to erase the threat.

Luke suggested that she get rid of the jacket. It really was a thinly veiled command, and clearly one she needed to follow. She understood now, that his reaction to Chris was visceral, completely involuntary. If Chris were to show up again, it would all be over. The only glimmer of hope she had for her life with Luke was hinged upon keeping the two men apart.

~*~*~

She needed to get her life with Luke set on the right path. There was so much work to do, but her love for him propelled her forward. With a freshly scrubbed face, combed hair, and more presentable clothes, she drove toward the source of her apprehension. When she arrived, jacket in hand, she took the elevator. Her stomach stayed on the ground floor as the rest of her rose to the top.

She rang the doorbell uneasily, hoping she could rely on the diplomacy of her Emily Gilmore upbringing to guide her through this encounter. Stepping back, she heard rustling on the other side of the door as she anticipated it opening. When Chris saw her face, his lit up brightly. "Hey, Lor. What a nice surprise. Come in." He moved aside to allow her access, then leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"Hi," she said, turning her face away, "I brought your jacket."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," he said, taking the sports coat and shrugging off a slightly puzzled expression. "Come on in. I just finished putting Gigi down for a nap."

"I can't really stay, Chris," she said with downcast eyes.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Well, it will be. I hope." She hesitated, then completed her thought, "Chris, I really need to ask you a favor."

"Okay, anything," his eyes expressed enthusiasm at the idea that she finally needed him, just like last night. He had secretly been hoping for months that she would seek his support. It seemed she finally had. He wondered if maybe she had finally realized that she belonged with him, the father of her child, the man she grew up with and shared a lifelong bond of friendship.

Seeing his eagerness to help her, and wanting to soften her request, she said, "Well, maybe I should sit down, just for a minute."

"What's up, Lor?" They both sat on facing chairs. Chris pulled his up so their knees were almost touching.

"Chris, I know you're Rory's father. She loves you. And, well, I love you for that, too. But I need to ask you to stay away from me for a while. Of course, if there's an emergency or something pressing, you can call me. Or, better yet, tell Rory and she can let me know," she explained, recognizing the magnitude of her request for the first time as it left her lips, and was reflected back to her in his disappointed expression.

"What?" The tone of his voice told her that he heard her, he just didn't want to believe it.

"I, um. It really didn't go well with Luke when you left. We had the fight of all fights. I'm talking the mother of all things fighty. And, well, I think it would be best if you and I didn't see each other, or talk to each other, just for a while."

"Are you serious?" He stared at her incredulously. She could see the hurt in his eyes.

"I'm serious; I wish I weren't," she said softly.

"So, you're going to let this jealous boyfriend of yours rule your life? Tell you that you can't speak to the father of your child?" he asked, standing up and moving around to the back of his chair.

"First, he's my fiancé. Second, Rory is no child. And third, yes I'm going to honor his request in this case." She looked up at him and held his gaze.

"He didn't sound like a fiancé when you were crying to me last night." He threw the words at her vehemently.

"Chris, I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to fight. I'm so done with fighting. I'm asking you as a friend; please keep your distance from us. Especially from Luke."

"No." He lifted his chin and held her gaze.

"No? What do you mean 'no'?" she asked.

"I mean, 'no.' I won't agree to this. He can't tell me what to do. If I want to speak to the mother of my daughter, I will."

She stood up, hoping to reestablish their bond by closing the space between them. "Chris, please just go with me on this. If you ever wanted to see me happy, if you ever cared about me, please do this for me."

"No, Lor. He's not right for you." He stepped back, away from her touch.

"How can you say that? You don't even know him."

"I know him well enough to know he won't commit to you," he said, his voice taking on an intentional sarcastic slant. "You call him your fiancé. Wouldn't that word imply that you have a date set? So, when's the date? June third? Oh, wait that _was_ the date. So, help me here with this on again, off again relationship. Which is it? On or off? Last night it was off, and now it's on? I have a hard time keeping up. No, it must be off still, you're not wearing the ring." He gestured to her hand.

She looked down, wounded by his mention of the absence of the engagement symbol on her finger. "It's none of your business when we get married. None of this is your business," she said, through her constricting throat.

"It _is_ my business. It's my business because you _made_ it my business. It was my business last night when I listened to you cry over him for hours. It was my business when I held you all night, while you sobbed over him. How dare you say it's not my business. I didn't invite you here, you came to me and I opened my door to you. My arms were open, too. And now you don't need me, so you're casting me aside?" He shook his head dejectedly. "You've got to admit, this is a little selfish, even for you Lorelai."

"Selfish? You don't even want to go there. Because believe me, I have two decades worth of your selfish behavior to unleash right back at you," she warned, as she headed toward the door, eager to end the conversation that had gone in a direction so far from anticipated.

He masked his hurt and disappointment through his growing tirade, and grasped her wrist, turning her to face him. "When have I been selfish? I would have married you and you know it. But you couldn't be bothered to stick around Hartford with me. You had to go take care of yourself. Give yourself room to breathe. Give yourself freedom. See the pattern here? Thinking only of yourself, not me, not your mother or father, not my parents, not even Rory, just yourself. Lorelai Gilmore can't be confined by rules of society, or by decorum, or by past precedent. No, she has to blaze the trail herself, and damn anyone who tries to bind her with any ties."

Lorelai pulled her arm away, physically reeling from his verbal attack, which he continued with a vengeance.

"Independence? What's that? You think you're so self-sufficient; but we both know the truth. The truth is, you don't have to prepare for the future. You've been camping out all these years playing the Spartan Martyr, but we all know that you're the only child to Richard and Emily. No matter how much you screw up, how far you fall, or how poorly you plan for your future, you have a soft cushion to land on when you inherit the estate that generations of Gilmores built before you."

"Chris…" she started.

"No, let me finish. I've waited a long time to say these things." He pulled his hand though his hair and continued, attempting to soften his tone. "The thing is, we could have been married, maybe we'd still be together, and maybe not. At least we could have given it a shot. You never even gave me the chance to be your husband."

Lorelai noticed that his hands were trembling, she reached out to touch him. Once again, he pulled away, his anger refueled by her gesture that, to him, smacked of pity.

"You know as well as I do that the stigma of divorce in our parents' circle is nothing compared to the scandal of illegitimacy. What you did had an effect on everyone, not just you and me. The pain and humiliation you caused our parents can never be atoned for. I always stood faithfully by your side, defending you when they said you were being rash, or stubborn, or impudent. I never did understand the depth of your selfishness until now."

He rocked back on his heels, as if winding up to go another round. When Lorelai stood in silence, he continued to direct his frustrations of the past two decades toward her.

"My father died ashamed of me, barely able to acknowledge my own daughter." His voice caught in his throat, and cracked. "Why? Because her mother had to find herself and needed some space. Yeah, I wasn't the most mature father, but I wasn't exactly the most welcomed father either. You wouldn't even let me put my name on the birth certificate," he rasped, remembering the pain, looking past her at a spot on the wall. "My daughter doesn't even have my name because you needed to do it on your own. Not only did you give her your last name, you gave her your first name." Chris finished more subdued than he started; his eyes were shiny with emotion.

Lorelai had heard countless times through her parents that she was being selfish by not marrying Chris and following the proper protocol. But, this was the first time she had every heard him verbalize his own pain that her actions caused. Up until this point, she had no idea that Chris gave a rat's ass about his father's attitude toward him. But she could see now, that he was more like her than she previously recognized. He, like her, had been seeking parental approval ever since the day they told their parents the fateful news.

Blinking back the sentiment, he allowed himself more verbal release. "All that is history, though. Now is another story. Now the person most effected by all this is Rory. Rory goes to _Yale_; she's dating a _Huntzberger_. You think Mitchum Huntzberger is going to allow the heir to his empire to marry a ba… an illegitimate child, named after her mother? Because if you do, you're in serious denial." As hurt and angry as he was with Lorelai, he couldn't bring himself to call Rory the name that he'd heard his father use so detestably on more than one occasion.

She couldn't believe she was hearing him talk about Rory this way. She followed him in stunned silence as he opened the door and held it for her, then he leaned against the jamb.

"All these years I've loved you and waited for you to come back to me. I always thought I had a chance. If I could just get my act together then I thought you'd love me, too. And you allowed me to believe it," he said, his injured expression touching her heart.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Yeah, well we're all sorry about something, Lorelai. You claim to have taken the road less traveled, when really you just took the low road," he said fabricating an unaffected shrug. "So, if you want to stay with your filthy diner owner, be my guest. You're perfect for each other; you're both so _common_."

Feeling as if she had just been pummeled, she hurled the worst insult at him that she could imagine. "So Chris, how does it feel to have finally become your father?"

"Lorelai, you don't have to worry about me trying to contact you. Because, for all I care, you can just go to Hell," he said, slamming the door.

~*~*~

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4 Repose

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 4: Repose**

**Thank you so much to LoriDhhp for helping me with this chapter. You've been a great asset with all of your patience and insight. That's why you're dubbed my angst beta. It's so fun working with you.**

**~*~*~**

Unable to drive fast enough to leave Christopher's anger behind her, Lorelai found herself trembling uncontrollably as she sped through town. She knew that Chris had some pent up resentment and insecurities about the father he had chosen to become. But she had never witnessed the depth of his indignation until today, and she certainly had never been on the receiving end of his wrath.

She always looked at him as a slightly mischievous, but benevolent child, willing to follow her lead whenever she crooked her finger. She never really looked at him as a full-fledged adult, maybe because their relationship had stopped developing when they were still both adolescents. But tonight, for the first time, she saw him as a man. A judgmental, angry, hostile man, but a man nonetheless. So much like his father it was eerie.

After witnessing Chris' hostility, his demeanor and rancor gave her pause to reflect upon what might have been said to Luke in the morning. It wasn't that she didn't believe Luke's interpretation of the conversation, it's just that she allowed for a certain amount of elaboration and projection from him, or from anyone, who would have been involved in an emotional situation like they had been. But now, there was no doubt Chris had said those awful, misleading things to Luke, causing him to believe the worst in her, and to make him feel as if he were the most unworthy player in this poorly written melodrama.

Now that she knew Chris was capable of such pointed hostility, and he admitted that he loved her and had been waiting for her, she began to speculate about Luke's reaction to his words. It was only logical that Luke was angry and accusatory with her. It made more sense that he hated Chris with every fiber of his being. She was amazed that Luke maintained control the way he did. Likewise, she was ashamed at her lack of control toward Luke.

She slapped him. Hard. It wasn't a tap, or an attention-getter. It was a strike with the purpose of causing pain. And she did. She remembered his red face and the seething anger behind his eyes as he held her wrists. He was shocked and humiliated. After struggling so hard not to punch Chris's lights out, he came to her, where he should have been safe, and she hit him. She saw him, so close to losing his forbearance that she felt a shot of pure unbridled fear at just the memory of when their eyes locked. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, yet she purposely struck him, cowering behind the fact that she's a woman. Luke Danes would never, in all his days on earth, strike a woman. If anyone knew him for a minute, they knew that about him. She was ashamed, deeply and utterly ashamed.

As horrible as it had gone with Chris, she pushed his harsh words to the back of her mind. Her concern was with Luke. He was her harbor, her home, where she belonged. She'd never feel safe or complete again if she couldn't be with him. Too much time had already passed before she made amends for her deed of fury. She needed to repair the damage and didn't even consider going home.

This phase they were going through, the vicious cycle of pushing each other away, then retreating back into their own separate worlds, had to stop. It was destroying their relationship, and she knew their love was worth fighting for. The only thing that mattered to her at this moment was her life with Luke. She hoped and prayed that Luke would be able to forgive her; she knew she needed to do some forgiving, too.

Lorelai parked her Jeep in front of the diner, her breaks screeching slightly before she ran inside. Once there, she found Caesar and asked, "Where's Luke?"

"He's upstairs. He took the day off," Caesar said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder toward the stairs.

She ran up the flight and knocked impatiently, waiting with her hands in her back pockets. She could see Luke's lumbering approach through the textured glass of his father's old office door. When he opened it, the aroma of dinner wafted out to the hallway, instantly bringing years of Luke's nurturing to the surface of her consciousness.

They stood wordlessly as they held each other's gaze. He stepped aside and granted her entrance, closing the door quietly behind them. Lorelai approached and stood directly in front of him. She looked up at his face, biting her bottom lip, brows creased. Relying on years of practiced indifference, his face remained blank. She closed the space in front of them and reached her hand up to his cheek. He remained fixed, looking down at her.

That face, that beautiful face of his. She wondered how could she do it, how she could physically hurt him like she did. She felt the whiskers that covered his chiseled features, and it broke her heart to think that she actually could slap him like she did. She smoothed the back of her fingers over his cheek and blinked back tears of shame as she turned her hand over and felt the rough stubble rub against her sensitive palm. She could feel his jaw flexing under her touch. Luke tried to be stoic, he tried to remain angry, he knew what she was atoning for; yet, his cheek automatically pushed into her hand as he closed his eyes and fought for control of his own emotions. His nostrils flared slightly as he willed his eyes to remain dry.

Her lips parted as she breathed in, trying to remain self-possessed. Surprising tears slipped out of both eyes; she thought by then, she'd be completely out. "Luke," she breathed, pulling her face up, rubbing it against his. She rained kisses on his jaw and his cheek, desperately trying to take away some of the pain she caused, but knowing she never could.

There were no words she could say. No vocabulary available to her to express how wrong she knew she was; only pure emotion and love were at her disposal. It was up to him to choose to forgive her reckless, impulsive act; it was not up to her to persuade him. His spine remained straight, but his head dipped down toward her, allowing her cheek to reach higher on his face. She pulled herself up to him, with both hands behind his head, wetting their faces with her warm sea of tears.

Her silent teardrops gave way to soft sobs. She remembered the morning's fear and frustration, and how it had driven her to such a violent act against the one person she never wanted to hurt. The one person she felt safest with. The one person she knew would give his life to keep her from harm. If only he could absolve her, they could start healing again. Yet, he remained straight and still, holding back his forgiveness.

As if controlled by his heart, rather than his mind, Luke's arms circled her waist and embraced her, melding her body into his. The relief she felt was so overwhelming; she sagged against him, relying on his strong arms to keep her standing.

"Luke, I'm…" she sobbed into his neck.

He pulled her away to look into her eyes, and with a nod said, "Shhhh, I know. Lorelai, I know." He didn't want her to say it; she didn't want to say it either. The words were too cheap and flimsy to keep proper company with the emotions they would attempt to convey.

"Luke, he was tormenting you and twisting the knife. And you didn't hit him. You hate him and he did his best to hurt you, but you didn't hit him. He tried to ruin our love, to drive a wedge between us, but you stayed in control. You didn't hurt him, even though he was hurting you. You stayed strong." She sobbed, needing to express how deeply she understood his pain and appreciated his strength.

"Lorelai, it wasn't all your fault. I had a hand in this too," he said. "I should never have accused you of such infidelity. I should have listened to you. All I needed to do was stop yelling for one minute and listen to you. Then you wouldn't be here crying, feeling the need to apologize."

Lorelai continued her repentance. "I didn't stay strong. I love you so much, yet I hurt you. You would never mistreat me like that, I know you. I've never been so filled with love as I have since I've been with you, but I _hit_ you. You were so unfaltering in your strength. I wasn't. I was so wrong in so many ways. I can't even begin to make up for that."

"No, Lorelai, I allowed him to get to me. I allowed him to shake my trust in you, my trust in us," Luke said steadily. "That's not an act of strength. It's an act of betrayal. I won't let you shoulder all the blame."

"I have nothing to say in way of explaining. Being afraid of losing you is no defense. Being frustrated that you wouldn't listen is no excuse for what I've done," she continued to hold on to him as her sobbing subsided. "I have no idea what to do for us. What do we do? Tell me where to start."

"We've already started," he said, wiping away her tears.

"Luke, I need to stay with you tonight," she said, trying to keep the desperation at bay.

"Stay," He said, holding her tightly, kissing her forehead. They remained embracing for a few minutes, until he led her to the table and sat her down. "You need to eat something."

"How do you always know?" she asked, using a paper napkin to finish drying her eyes.

"I just know; God given talent, I guess," he said, removing a plate from the cupboard and filling it with food from the stove. He placed it in front of her, and then started a pot of coffee.

She ate in silence for a few minutes while he watched her enjoy it. Soon she was revived by the sustenance he provided.

"This is delicious. Thank you," she said, finally slowing down.

He nodded at the acknowledgement, placed a hot cup in front of her, and took a seat. "So, I take it you talked to him."

She nodded and closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, then let her breath out slowly. He watched her intently before asking, "How did it go?"

"It went."

"You don't want to talk about it?" he asked, jaw flexing.

"Can I just say that you won't have to worry about him trying to contact me for a very long time?"

"Good. That's good." He sat, pondering.

She took a long sip of coffee, and studied his face. "What? Do you want more information? I'll tell you everything," she said in the spirit of full disclosure.

"No, bottom line is good."

"Ok, so then why the face?"

"Anna called," he said plainly.

Lorelai began to feel the stirrings of fear. She wondered if Anna had somehow found another reason for Luke to keep her away again. Lorelai struggled to keep her face neutral, but she was never any good at doing that. Her face had always been an expressive reflection of all she felt. One reason Luke had fallen in love with her was her ability to convey so many complex thoughts and emotions in one simple conversation.

He watched her anxiety rise as she waited for him to continue. "Anna's mother has to have back surgery in New Mexico, so she asked if I would let April stay with me for at least two weeks. She's coming over tomorrow after school."

"Oh, of course. It's good that she asked you. It's only right; you're April's father," Lorelai said, knowing it was a good opportunity for Luke to get to know his daughter, yet already beginning to feel left out. She hated herself for this jealousy, but couldn't shake loose from its grip.

"That's what I thought," Luke said, "but, two weeks or more is a long time."

She nodded and drank some more coffee, keeping her hands and mouth occupied, so they wouldn't betray her misgivings.

"You can't really stay here while she's here; it just wouldn't be right. And we can't stay at your house. That…too…that's out of the question." He stated the obvious.

"Okay, so I guess you'll be busy for the next two weeks or so," she said, scarcely able to control the quiver in her voice. They were so close to falling away from each other. So close to losing everything. This was the time, of all times, that they needed to be together; the timing couldn't be worse. These weeks of separation seemed like the fatal blow to their relationship. How could they heal while they were apart?

"Well, yeah, but if we schedule it right, it should be okay," he said, sliding a calendar and pen off the counter. "See, this is when she arrives, and she's expected to leave sometime after here," he said as he pointed out the dates where his masculine scrawl had indicated. Lorelai looked at the expansive weeks in front of them and could only see an infinite abyss of time, where she felt she would surely be pushed to the sidelines once more.

"So, I was thinking," he said, "I'm the boss and you're the boss. Why don't we schedule two days each week when April's in school, then we can have all day together?"

"Really?" She looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah, I was thinking Tuesdays and Thursdays; April has swim practice after school and gets home late anyway. And if you take those days off too, we can have all day, just you and me."

"That sounds very doable," she said, her trepidation beginning to lift.

"Ok, so I can write it down?" he asked, pen poised over the calendar.

She nodded, and watched him eagerly pen it in.

"Now for the evenings," he said.

"Evenings?"

"You might have to eat at the diner some of the time, but I think you can handle that." He gave her a tender, teasing smile. "My place is kind of small for all of us, so when Rory comes, we'll eat at your house. Okay?"

"I, um, okay." She smiled.

"I'll write dinner at your place for next Saturday, then." He busied himself writing it down. "Then on the weeknights, we'll just play it by ear. I'd like to spend at least a few of nights alone with April, and at least one day per weekend for father daughter stuff. She wants to got to the planetarium; she likes all that science stuff."

"Yeah, of course. Luke, why…when did you decide all this?" she asked.

He put his hand on her thigh and said, "I figured, if I'm responsible enough to look after her for an extended amount of time, I'm responsible enough to decide who she keeps company with. And, I can't think of two better people to be near my daughter than you and Rory."

Lorelai's smile mirrored her soaring heart.

~*~*~

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5 It's Not The Money

**Fight For Us**

**Chapter 5 – It's Not the Money**

**~*~*~**

**This Chapter was challenging to write, and I gladly accepted help from my friends: LoriD, thanks so much for helping me "angst it up" and being there to read it when I needed you. You rock the angst! And thank you Jewels12 for being so darn cute! Oh, and for putting in so much time to Beta and comment on my work, offering suggestions, and always making it better. **

**~*~*~**

Lorelai buttoned up his soft flannel shirt before rolling the sleeves to her elbows. Luke held the blankets for her, allowing her to crawl into her side of his bed. She scooted over closely, and rested her head on his arm as he pulled her close. With their fingers loosely interlocked, they recovered in each other's arms from their emotional day.

"Comfortable?" he asked, pulling her even closer.

She nodded, "Yeah, you're so warm."

"I missed you; it's been too long," he whispered into her hair.

"I missed you, too," she said. "Are you excited that April is coming?"

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it. Kind of nervous, though. She's never really spent much time here. I hope she's not bored to death."

"It'll be fine. You'll do great!" Lorelai encouraged him. "And April is so smart. She can keep herself occupied. You don't need to entertain her."

"I know, but Anna's so… on top of it all, with lists and numbers, and everything. I don't want to mess it up."

They snuggled closer and after a few minutes, Lorelai asked, "Luke, would you have married Anna if you had known about April at the time?"

"I haven't really given marriage to_ Anna_ much thought, but yeah. I would have." He nodded as he looked over at her.

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Just decide like that, with such certainty? You said you hadn't thought about it, then you think about it for a millisecond and come up with an ironclad, life-altering answer."

"It would have been the right thing to do. So that's what I would have done. I'm not a very complicated guy, if you haven't noticed." He smiled slightly.

"You always do the right thing," she said.

"Well, yeah, I try to."

"No, it wasn't a question. It was an observation. You always do the right thing. You might complain adamantly, and rant ferociously, but you do the right thing," she said.

He nodded, feeling like he had been all figured out.

"Your parents taught you to do the right thing, didn't they?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, they were both that way. Things were either right or wrong, and they gave us one chance to choose. If we made the wrong decision, they'd sure let us know."

"That's really nice."

"It was, but it had a certain inflexibility built into it. I like to think I've taken the best parts. A sense of right and wrong, but with more tolerance than their generation allowed."

"Yeah, my parents couldn't be described as tolerant either. Yet, they didn't dwell on right or wrong. I was raised to do what was _proper_. To them, that was most important. It wasn't _proper_ to help the maids carry heavy laundry baskets, but was it _wrong_? I was perpetually scolded for improper behavior."

"That must have been really confusing for a young girl."

"It was, and I didn't want Rory to grow up like that, too."

"But, I've consistently seen you do what's right."

"Rory kind of saved me in that sense. Here was this perfect little person. I didn't have to be proper for her. I just had to do the right thing. If she was hungry, the right thing was to feed her. If she was upset, the right thing was to soothe her. It clicked, you know, when I had someone to do the right thing for."

She watched a veil of sadness cover his eyes, as he nodded. She knew he was thinking of April. It hurt her deeply to think of all that Luke had to offer as a loving father, and how that had been interrupted for so long. She knew that he loved April and he was trying to handle fatherhood in the best way that he knew how.

She had to remember that Luke wasn't a gregarious, friendly person. It took him a long time to cultivate relationships. He didn't do it hastily, or capriciously. Yet, when he formed a bond, it was deep and meaningful, and was there to stay. She knew he was getting to know his daughter at his own pace, and she was relieved that he was now ready to include April into their lives as a couple.

"Would your parents have liked me?" she asked, curious about the source of his strength. She regretted never having the chance to meet the people who raised the best man she had ever known. She frequently imagined that they would embrace her and accept her, much like Luke had: unconditionally, wholeheartedly, and without superficial demands.

"Are you kidding? They would have loved you, especially my mother. She would have been so proud of how you raised Rory."

"Wow, 'mother' and 'proud' in the same sentence. That's not something I hear very often."

"Well, my father would have loved you,too. He would have referred to you, affectionately of course, as 'that leggy broad.'"

She laughed while asking, "They wouldn't have judged me?"

"Not after knowing you and Rory for one minute, they wouldn't," he said decidedly.

"Um, about Anna? What if you asked her to marry you, because you thought it was the right thing to do, but she said no?"

"I would have been relieved as hell," he said, with a deep exhale and a smile.

"You wouldn't have wanted to marry her?"

"No, we weren't meant for marriage, not to each other, anyway."

"Why not?"

"We didn't love each other," he said simply.

"But, still you would have married her?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And you think that would have been right?" she asked.

"I don't have all the answers. But, yeah, it probably would have."

Lorelai nodded thoughtfully.

"Where is all this coming from, anyway?" he asked.

"I don't know. It's just…what if everyone else thought you should get married, then would you still have been relieved, or would you have been angry?" she asked.

"Oh, no. This isn't the same. You can't compare me and Anna to you and Christopher. We were older than you were, at least by ten years. I was a man, young, but still a grown man. You two were just high school kids. Still legally under your parents' control. Besides, it was different for Anna and me because we weren't…" his voice stopped abruptly.

"Weren't what?"

He shook his head. "I don't know; it doesn't matter."

"No, you were going to say something. Weren't what, Luke? Socialites? Elitists? Snobs? What were you going to say?" she asked, getting defensive.

"Rich. I was going to say that Anna and I weren't rich."

She considered the word and all its implications. To most people, the word wasn't derogatory; it existed without negative connotations. But to her, it meant obligation, division, and suffocation. All the 'shuns' her brain could grasp onto. She knew that Luke wasn't trying to hurt her, or rub her face in it; he was merely making a statement about her previous living condition. She couldn't hold it against him for stating a fact, especially since it was true.

"So, how much does it bother you?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"That my family is wealthy? I know it's an issue, and we're starting to come to terms with some things. I just want to know what you're thinking."

"Um, it's not the money," he said.

"Famous last words." She allowed a chuckle to escape her mouth.

"Yeah," he laughed slightly, too. "It's more the feeling I get when I'm around people who revere power and wealth so much. I just can't relate to seating charts and fund raising committees. I couldn't care less about that crap."

She listened intently and nodded. "I feel exactly the same way."

"I know. That's why you left. That's why you took Rory away from superficial gestures and gave her a life with real love and real affection. If you're searching for the answer as to whether or not you did the right thing, you can't look to me. Although, for the record, I think you did an incredible job. But, you need to look at Rory. Did she get the love you wanted her to have? Did she learn the values that you wanted her to learn? If so, there's your answer."

"Thank you. Luke, I love you so much. I'm sorry you don't feel like you belong around my parents. Believe me, I know the feeling and it sucks."

"I may not be the most popular guy in the world, but people usually accept me for who I am. Then I go into your parents' place and I don't belong. I don't feel comfortable. Like you said about being proper."

"If it makes you feel any better, I _never_ do the proper thing."

"The difference is, you _know_ what the proper thing is. You know the rule before you choose to break it. I have no idea what the rule is, so I'm not even aware of which rule I'm screwing up. You know, when I golfed with your father, I allowed my shadow to cross his putting line. I didn't even know that a putting line existed. Do you know there's an entire encyclopedic volume on golf etiquette? He suggested I read it."

Lorelai laughed, "What did you say?"

"I told him I'd get right on it."

"He does have a point, though."

"What? Are you suggesting I read golf etiquette books?"

"What I mean is, it's learned. He learned it. He wasn't born with it. And like a lot of other things, sometimes you might not be comfortable doing something unless you learn about it. You're an athlete, you like sports, right?"

"Yeah, I love sports."

"Well, then, learning the rules of golf would be easy for you. You haven't been exposed to it, but you're certainly aware of how sports work. Golf could actually be a really valuable tool for you to grow more comfortable with my father and his stodgy pseudo-friends. You're way more athletic than they are. You know how the learning curve in sports works, all you have to do is get the basics and you'd be able to keep up. You don't even have to learn with them. You could practice at the public course. And if you read a little about it, you'd be infinitely more comfortable."

"So, you want me to be a country club phony?"

"No, what I'm saying is, if you feel uncomfortable, it doesn't have to always be that way. Just like anything, golf is learned. I don't think you'd want to learn about the history of Russian literature and how it influenced Western thought and politics, but golf you can handle. In fact, with a fair amount of practice and your athletic ability, you could more than keep up."

"Probably," he said, considering it.

"Was there anything about golfing that you enjoyed?"

"Yeah, I liked being outside. The grounds were beautiful, peaceful. And every once in a while I hit a good shot. That was actually cool. Your father can be quite a character, too. He's more relaxed on the course."

"Then I hope you'll consider learning more about the game. I think it's the prefect way to get to know him."

"You actually think it's a good idea for me to golf with your father and his cronies?"

"I think it could be the connection that he's looking for."

"You think he's looking for a connection with me?"

"He invited you, didn't he? You're going to marry me, some day, aren't you?" she asked, hopefully.

"Yes, I _will_ marry you, Lorelai Gilmore. I'm not letting you get away from me that easily. And I'm not giving up on us," he said, while kissing her lightly on the lips.

"Good, because I'm not giving up either." She kissed him back. "He never had a son, and I'm his only daughter. So you might be the closest he ever gets to having a son."

"Unless we give him a grandson," Luke said looking into Lorelai's eyes, hoping for the exact reaction he received. She blinked several times and smiled up at him, knowing that there would be no bigger blessing in the world than to give Luke a son, and her father a grandson.

He contemplated her words, realizing for the first time that maybe Richard wasn't trying to humiliate him, but rather to include him. The next time the opportunity presented itself, he'd attempt to make a connection with Lorelai's father on the golf course.

"So, about the money, maybe it does have something to do with the money," he admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father knows what he's doing. He knows how to protect his family and their assets. I don't know anything about hedge funds or leveraged buy-outs. It seems like second nature to him and all his friends. It's a huge responsibility. When we're married, am I supposed to be responsible for his grandchildren's future? That's a lot of pressure. I don't have any skills in that area. What if I completely disappoint everyone?"

"First of all, you don't have to worry about protecting anything. My father, his father, and his grandfather have hired experts to handle all the crucial financial decisions. There are safety nets in place, have been for generations. The extra investments that my father dabbles in, like the windmill in Palm Springs, that's his way of having fun. Nobody expects you to be him."

"That's good." He let out a long breath.

"Besides, you do have skills in that area. In fact, you have the perfect temperament of someone rich, who will stay that way."

"Who? Me?"

"No, the mouse in my pocket! Yes, you. You're a rare person who doesn't need or want things; useless, pretty things."

He stifled a laugh, but allowed a smirk to sneak past his lips while looking at her. "Speaking of useless, pretty things…"

"You'd better not say it!" she warned jokingly.

"Okay, but you are a pretty thing," he said while kissing her temple.

"What I was saying is, you spend money and invest like a very rich man. My father didn't say it, but I can tell he's very impressed with your lifestyle."

"Oh, come on," he scoffed.

"No, I'm serious. You don't waste money. Everything you own is either useful or sentimental. You live well within your means. And you've invested heavily in one of the most, if not _the most_, conservative areas there is to invest in."

"I did?"

"Yes, real estate. My father always stresses that no other investment has the benefits of real estate. You leverage the investment with the bank's money. You can earn rent on it. It appreciates in value while you get to write off the depreciation of the building. And you write off the interest, too."

"That's true, you can do all that." He nodded in agreement.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You have way more in common with the established rich than you think."

"I never thought of myself that way. Pretty scary."

"So, come over here and hug me, Ebenezer," she teased, pulling him in for a tight embrace.

"Ebenezer?" he groaned.

"Or would you prefer Tiny Tim?"

"Uh, Ebenezer is just fine."

~*~*~

Luke handed Lorelai some coffee as they shared a rare, intimate morning. "Lorelai, I've been meaning to ask you. Where's your ring?" He gestured to the conspicuous absence of the diamond.

She put her cup down, looked at her hand, and held her ring finger between the thumb and middle finger of her other hand. "I have it in my purse," she said thoughtfully.

"What are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know." She shrugged and stared at the white strip of her skin where the ring had been.

"Look at me,Lorelai," he said. "Remember, we're trying to fix things now. Make them better?"

"Yeah." She held his gaze.

"We don't have a date set."

She nodded. "I know. That's why I haven't put it back on. It's not really an engagement if there's no _engagement_."

He nodded. "I don't know if we should set a date right away. We have so much to figure out. It's so important that we get it right. You know I love you, and there's nothing I want more than to make you my wife. But I don't think running away from all the people who care about us to elope is the right thing to do, either."

He pulled her into his warm arms and held her tightly. His arms circled her body as if he were protecting her from a frigid Arctic storm. She squeezed him around his waist and held on, burying her face into his chest, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent. They rocked slightly from side to side, each contemplating the situation, and wondering how they had let it get so out of hand.

"I think I know what we need to do," he said, suddenly feeling reinvigorated by his plan to solve the dilemma.

"What?"

"Get your purse."

She walked over to the entry and took her purse from the hook near the door. He stood in front of the safe, and began turning the dial. He spun it to the left quickly, then to the right, then left again, with practiced ease.

Her heart began to palpitate when she realized what he had in mind. _This can't be happening_, she thought.

He opened the safe and said, "We can't have you lose it. Let's put it here until we have a date set." He held out his hand, waiting for her to relinquish the ring. As if in slow motion on an old, soundless eight-millimeter film, the colorless action flashed in front of her eyes. Too numb to protest, she fished out the ring, and handed it to him. He took out a small black velvet box, flipped it open and placed the ring inside. "These were my parents' rings. It'll be safe with theirs," he said with a nod of his head.

He knew he was doing the right thing, the responsible thing. He couldn't have her carrying it around in her purse. That would be dangerous, an accident waiting to happen. His job was to keep it safe and secure, locked away from anything and anyone who might harm it. He'd bring it back out when the threat subsided. But not now, not yet. The engagement ring would remain safely in the vault until they regained their footing, set a date, and warded off all the enemies of their love. Yes, he felt certain about this. It was the right thing to do; he felt it in his heart when the metal door clicked shut.

She was sure that they were doing the wrong thing. Locked away, hidden, lonely and afraid. It was her job to keep it alive and well. If she didn't pour love on it, it might wither and die. Without light to bring it shining to life, it might as well be a lump of coal. She felt a physical ache at the separation. So many times she stared at it while it brought her hope of the intimacy that had been eluding them recently. She'd stare deeply into the facets, marveling at the intricacy of the cut, and the brilliance of the reflected light representing the timelessness that she felt when the emotions overtook her. Countless times she'd held it in the morning sunlight that streamed through her window, bouncing refracted rainbows across her ceiling and walls displayed in hundreds of splintered flashes.

A piece of her was missing. He had stolen it forever. Sealed away in a tomb; it was fitting that he placed it alongside his deceased parents' rings. Feeling in her heart like she had been shut out all over again, she knew it was the wrong thing to do when the metal door slammed.

With a sense of satisfaction, he spun the dial and tugged on the lever, making sure the safe was sealed. He rubbed his hands together and turned toward Lorelai. "It's okay now. We're going to be okay."

She said nothing, but simply nodded.

"I have to get to work now. I'll see you before you go. Okay?"

She stood silently as he brushed his lips across her cheek and made his way to the door. When he got there, he turned and said, "Hey, we did the right thing."

She gave him a weak smile, put her fingertips to her lips and blew him a kiss. She wondered, _How could we do something so wrong?_

_~*~*~_

_TBC...  
_


	6. Chapter 6 The Formula

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 6 The Formula**

**Thank you Jewels12 for your awesome Beta work and your great suggestions. As always, you are much appreciated and loved!  
**

Seated at the front desk, pouring over some paperwork, Lorelai's cell phone sang through the lobby of the Dragonfly Inn. "Hello, Sexy, I hope you're naked!" Lorelai purred into her cell, knowing who it was by the 'I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt' ring tone. Luke didn't even take time to roll his eyes at her reference to the song that chagrined him.

"Her boobs hurt!" Luke exclaimed in near panic.

"What?"

"She yelled at me, and her boobs hurt!"

"Ok, hold on there, cowboy. Whose boobs hurt?"

"April's. They called from school, said she was sick. I needed to pick her up. So I did, right away. I get there, and she starts yelling at me about how it took me so long."

"Yeah?"

"I said I had to drive. You know, because _I had to drive_."

"Ok, so you drove."

"And she's almost crying. So I ask her how she's feeling. Then she went off on me."

"What do you mean, she 'went off on you'?"

"She yelled about how everyone keeps asking if she's okay. 'Yes,' she said she's okay, stop bothering her. Then she says, 'no,' she's not okay, her stomach hurts, her head hurts, her back hurts, and oh yeah, her boobs hurt!"

"Wow!" Lorelai laughed.

"It's not funny. Is she allowed to say, 'boobs'? Is she allowed to have boobs?"

"Luke, calm down. Is she eating?"

"Three orders of fries. That's it. No protein. I couldn't get her to eat any protein. I offered her some grilled fish, or a lean chicken breast, and she accused me of calling her fat!"

Lorelai laughed again, this time a little heartier. "I think I know what's wrong with her. She's thirteen?"

"Yep, thirteen, that's right." He peered at April through the curtain, watching her liberally salt her fries. She generously dipped groups of three or four in ketchup, before shoving them into her mouth hungrily.

"Well, thirteen-year-old girls will act like this periodically."

"So what do I do?"

"You just have to understand that it's normal for her to periodically get moody and have aches and pains.'

"Okay, growing pains, got it."

"So you'll need to be understanding. Period."

"Why do you keep saying 'peri…'?" he asked, then in recognition his eyes widened. "Oh, no! No, no, no! I'm not prepared for this. I can't deal with this." He stepped into the storeroom, far away from the curtain, then whispered in near panic, "Get over here. I can't do this."

"Relax, this is easy once you get the formula down."

"Formula? There's a formula?"

"Of course there's a formula. Do you have any chocolate?"

"No, I don't have any chocolate; that stuff will kill you."

"Um, you're the one who's in danger of being bludgeoned by a blunt instrument if you don't get that menstruating teen some chocolate."

"Oh, God, don't say that word."

"What, 'bludgeoned'?"

"No, 'menstruating.'"

Doing a fairly good job of stifling her giggle, Lorelai instructed him, "Go to Taylor's Soda Shoppe and get her some chocolate."

"I can't go in there. They'll know."

"Just tell them it's for me," she offered. "Young girls don't have the sophisticated palette that we grown women have, so keep it simple. Milk chocolate with caramel and nuts would be perfect. Get her three almond turtles, and three pecan turtles. Oh, and three rum balls."

"Ok, I can do that," he said, concentrating on regulating his breath and tilting his head from side to side to stretch his neck. "But, isn't there actual rum in rum balls?"

"Oh, those are for me."

He rolled his eyes. "When are you coming?"

"I'll stop by home and see what kind of products I have, then I'll come right over."

"Products?"

"Yes, feminine hyge…"

"Uh, customer," he blurted, before hanging up hastily.

~*~*~

When Loreali arrived at the diner, Luke was nervously wiping down every horizontal surface with his towel, staying as far away from April as possible. April was still at the table, savoring the fourth of the six turtles, engrossed in her studies. She had several thick textbooks opened all around her.

"Hey," Lorelai said to Luke.

He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her behind the curtain. "What's the rest of the formula?" he asked breathlessly.

She smiled and said, "Well, hello to you, too."

"Hello, now what's the formula?"

"Don't I get a kiss first?"

He pecked her briskly.

"With a kiss that lame, I should at least get some chocolate."

He walked over to the cooler and wordlessly took out a small, white paper bag and handed it to her.

"My rum balls!" she gushed, sticking her nose in the bag and inhaling deeply.

"Lorelai!" he barked impatiently.

"Don't rush me. These things take time." She stopped, faced him solidly, and steadied herself. "The formula. Three things you need to know about Old Aunt Flow: Midol, chocolate, and back off."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much. I brought some Midol. You gave her the chocolate. Now we just back off, unless she needs us. If she does, then we're there."

"Are you sure that's it?"

"Sounds easy, but the 'back off' part is the hardest."

"I bet."

"You gonna hide back here all day?"

"Maybe."

"Well, I'm going to talk to her, okay?"

"Yes, please, talk away. And leave me out of it."

She chuckled as she made her way to April.

"Hi, April."

"Hey, Lorelai. Would you like a turtle? I only have two pecan ones left, though."

"No thanks, I won't be needing the hard stuff for a couple of weeks."

April nodded in understanding.

"So what's so interesting, anyway?" Lorelai asked.

"Hyperphagia,"

"Oh, right. Cool," Lorelai said, nodding in false understanding.

"That's just a fancy term for overeating. It's what bears do in preparation for hibernation," April explained. "It's what I've been doing for about a week now."

Lorelai nodded in understanding. "Oh, hey, did Luke tell you about the time he saw a grizzly bear on a camping trip?"

"No way!"

"Way! You should ask him about it sometime. Believe it or not, he really does want to talk to you."

"He knows, doesn't he?" April asked, lifting her head up from her books.

"Yes, he knows. He's not too quick, but he catches on eventually," Lorelai said.

"It's a perfectly natural biological phenomenon for female _homo sapiens_ to slough off blood, secretions, and tissue from the uterine walls," April said, matter-of-factly.

"Well, when you put it that way, I'm sure he'll feel all warm and fuzzy about his little girl becoming a woman."

"I guess you're right. He is kind of squeamish about these things," April concurred. After a few moments of silence, she admitted, "I yelled at him."

"Yeah, he said."

"I think I hurt his feelings."

"Well, he's pretty new at this father thing." Lorelai noticed April's eyes misting over. "You're pretty new at the daddy's little girl thing, too. Aren't you?"

April nodded, looking down at her pencil.

"The only thing I can tell you, is that a father, especially one like Luke, will always love you. No matter what."

"I know. That's what makes me feel even crappier."

Lorelai nodded in understanding and waited for April to finish.

"I don't know why I'm being like this. It's just, I'm supposed to go to a party tomorrow night, my first boy-girl party. But I feel fat, I have a zit, and all the bras that I brought hurt."

"You are not fat and I don't see any zits. This bloating and insecurity is just nature's cruel way of reminding women that we may not need men, but we sure need chocolate. Here, I brought you a few things." She slid a paper bag across the table.

"Thanks," April said, peaking into the bag and nodding.

"This isn't your first period is it?"

"No, just my first, you know, without my mom here."

"Oh, Hon, it must be tough without her," Lorelai said. "But I know a little about this stuff, too. First thing, take two Midol. And if you want me to, I can take you to Target. We'll get some more products and pick up a more comfortable bra or two. Then maybe we can find something for you to wear tomorrow tonight."

"Really? That would be so cool! Just let me go up and change," April said, her spirits lifting, as she began snapping her books shut.

"Oh, and can I suggest you wear your camisole with the shelf bra? That will be a lot more comfortable," Lorelai suggested.

"Good idea." With an armful of books, April ran past Luke, and up the stairs.

He came out from behind the curtain, saying, "She was smiling. What did you do?"

"Not much, I think it was your chocolate."

He nodded proudly.

"Luke, I told her I'd take her shopping. You know, for some stuff," she said. "I hope you don't mind, but I took it from your demeanor earlier that you'd rather not deal with her period yet."

"No, please, take her," he said, pulling a debit card out of his wallet, and extended it to Lorelai between his index and middle finger.

"While we're gone, do you think you could clear out a shelf, or drawer, or something for her in the bathroom? She's going to need some private spaces."

"Oh, man. I didn't even think of that," he said.

"That's why I'm here."

"Lorelai, thanks for coming over and helping me with this. I wouldn't have known what to do," he said sincerely, while pulling her into his arms.

"You can pay me back in coffee," she teased, kissing him softly.

"I was thinking I could pay you back in services, rather than goods."

"How about you pay me back in _good services_?" she smiled devilishly.

"That can be arranged."

~*~*~

Luke dutifully cleaned up the diner in preparation for closing. He was trying not to mark the time without his girls being there with him. April had been staying with him for almost two weeks, and he was really getting used to having her around. He thanked God for Lorelai today, too, knowing that things could have turned out entirely wrong had she not known how to handle April's mood.

He was pleased with how things were going in general with Lorelai and April, happy that they seemed to be getting along well. He was also looking forward to Rory coming home next weekend. He knew that April was excited to spend some time with a real college student. They had so much in common, he hoped Rory would be excited to hang out with April as well.

Luke had just finished ringing up the last of his customers, and had begun turning chairs upside down on the tables, when Lorelai and April finally made it back. He realized how lonely it could get without the women in his life there to talk non-stop and to tease him gently. He watched with bemused tenderness as they squeezed through his front door with so many packages, that they had to make several stops to readjust the grip they had on the bags.

"Hi,Dad!" April beamed, her arms loaded with white plastic bags adorned with red circles.

"Hi, Sweetie," He nodded, taking some packages off her hands.

Luke greeted Lorelai with a kiss. "What's all this?" he said, as he tugged on the corner of one bag, trying to peek into it.

"Uh, uh! No you don't. You can see everything once you get upstairs." She batted his hand away. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah, let me finish up and I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"Okay! It'll give us some time to brighten things up around here."

"Oh, no!" he groused.

"Oh, yes, Dad!" April giggled as she ran up the stairs ahead of Lorelai.

Luke made some last minute closing preparations, and opted to take his entire cash drawer upstairs to finish his paperwork in the company of his family. He loved the sound of that. It had been so long since he had a family to speak of. Now he had April, and soon, Lorelai and Rory would officially be his family, too.

He heard April's voice waft down into the hallway as he opened the door to his small, but functional converted office. "Actually, my avocado pit needs light, and it's kind of dark in here."

"Well, there will be a little more light in the morning," Luke said, as he entered.

"And it will be less brown in the morning, too," April said.

"Babe, we got you something," Lorelai warned before she tossed a package to him. It arced about four feet short of him, but he was quick to pluck it out of the air before it hit the ground.

"Socks?"

"Yeah, yours are looking shabby. And listen to this, we scored a twelve pack for six dollars!"

Luke looked impressed. "Twenty-four socks for six bucks. That's only twenty-five cents a sock."

"And, look!" April said, proudly pointing to the new tablecloth.

"Oh, this looks good," Luke said, running his hand over the bright tablecloth with colorful concentric circles on it.

"I knew you'd like it. Lorelai helped pick it out."

"Well, you needed a tablecloth," Lorelai said.

"That's true, to brighten things up around here. It's kind of depressing," April said, then remembered her earlier outburst. "Sorry if that hurt your feelings. Mom says bluntness isn't my most attractive quality."

"Well, you just stay who you are. You're genuine, and I love that about you," he said with a quick nod. "That's a fancy shade of blue."

"Uh, it's cerulean. I'm really into cerulean," April said.

"Yeah, I can see why," Luke admired the changes they'd made to his apartment.

"I used to be really into olive. Everything was olive. You know? It was my backpack, my pants, my sneakers. It was all olive. And then one day, I just…I woke up, and I was like, 'Olive? I don't like olive. Not to wear, not to eat. Olive, blech,'" April prattled on happily, helping Lorelai pull items from the bags.

Luke laughed. "Well, you know what? I'm really glad you bought cerulean. You seem to have had fun, and the place looks great."

He looked around, noticing the bright splashes of color that Lorelai and April had added to his otherwise monochromatic apartment.

"And now, anytime you want, you two can have a nice dinner on this table. Like, tomorrow night when I go to Sabrina's party."

"That's true," Luke said, looking over toward Lorelai, who kept her head buried in the shopping bags, remaining a neutral part of the conversation.

"You could put flowers in this vase, and use it like a centerpiece," April continued.

"Uh-huh." Luke looked at Lorelai again, not getting any help from her.

"You could dim the lights; light these candles," April continued with her romantic dinner scenario.

Luke said, "We can do it tonight if you want, for the three of us."

"Yeah," April said, "Or, you know, you could do it when you two have some time alone."

"Yeah, we could," Luke said.

"Um, you guys?" April said tentatively, "When you finally get married, I don't want to be your flower girl."

Luke's head turned toward April, and Lorelai's face flushed with disappointment. "Well, we won't make you do anything you don't want to do. But we really, really want you to be a part of our wedding," Lorelai said, and Luke nodded in agreement.

"I know, and I've always wanted to be a flower girl. I almost was for mom, twice. But things didn't work out for some reason; she'd never tell me. Anyway, I'm thirteen now. I'm not a little girl, and I'm almost as tall as Rory. I think I should be a bridesmaid."

Luke and Lorelai each let out a sigh of relief. "She's right," Lorelai said to Luke. Then to April, she said, "You're right. You're way too mature to be a flower girl. You've grown up so fast. I didn't even notice. Now that I look at you, you'd make a beautiful bridesmaid." Lorelai's eyes shone with emotion as she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "Um, I think I need to go home. I haven't been there all day, and didn't really expect to be gone this long."

"Oh, you should stay. Stay for dinner with us," Luke offered.

"I really should be going. It'll give you two some time to talk." Lorelai glanced over at April, gesturing subtly.

"Um, okay," Luke said unsteadily before Lorelai leaned in for a goodbye kiss.

"Thanks for taking me shopping, Lorelai. It was a lot of fun. And thanks for helping me pick out the cool outfit. Oh, Dad you've got to see the awesome clothes we found. I'm going to wear them tomorrow night."

"I'm looking forward to it," Luke said.

"You're welcome, April. And I had fun, too. If I don't see you before your party, have a great time. And don't let that boy pester you by calling you Purple Nardini all night."

"Oh, I won't. That lame insult is so last month."

"I'll walk you down," Luke said, accompanying Lorelai to the door. They walked down the stairway together, their footsteps echoing off the unadorned hallway walls. When they reached the bottom step, Luke tugged Lorelai to his chest and held her close. She relaxed into him, trying her hardest to keep the tears at bay.

"You haven't told her?" Lorelai looked up at Luke. He shook his head. "No. I didn't know what to say to her. Heck, half the time I don't know what to say to you."

"She asked me about the ring. I don't know, Luke. I hate this. I hate not being engaged. Are you still my fiance? What do I call you? Did I get demoted to being just your girlfriend? It seems so wrong. You need to talk to her. She's already been disappointed out of being in two weddings."

"I'll talk to her. She'll understand."

"How can she understand, when I don't even understand? What are we doing? I spent all day with the girl who should be my stepdaughter soon, but I don't know. Will she be? Ever?"

"Lorelai, yes, she will be your stepdaughter," he reassured her.

"Do you love me, Luke?"

"Of course I love you. How can you doubt that?" He held her gaze steadily, his heart breaking to know that she had to ask that question with such fear in her eyes. "Come here, Baby. I love you so much, it hurts."

"Is there ever going to be a wedding?"

"Yes, you are my fiancee, we just don't have a date set. That's all. I thought we were moving closer to each other, with April, all of us spending more time together."

"I know, but sometime I need to hear you say it. I need to know," she said through stifled sobs. He wiped her tears with his thumb and kissed her cheeks.

"You're right. I need to tell you more often, and I need to show you more. I hope you know I'm doing the best I can," he sighed. "I love you, Lorelai."

"I love you, Luke."

After seeing her safely to her Jeep, he headed back up the stairs to find April reading a biology text in her bed.

"Real page-turner, huh?" Luke said facetiously.

April took him literally and replied, "Oh, yeah. Mitosis is insane."

He chuckled softly. "So, you heard that we've postponed the wedding."

"Yeah, I sort of noticed that she wasn't wearing the ring."

"Did she tell you what's going on?"

"Not really. Just you know, how you're working it out. Whatever. You don't have to tell me if you don't think I'm mature enough."

"No, I want to tell you. It's well, sometimes that happens, you know? Sometimes it doesn't work out as smoothly as planned, and people need to slow down, and regroup."

"Is it my fault, the slowing down and regrouping?"

"Oh, Honey, no. Why would you think it's your fault?"

"Well, you were engaged before you knew about me. Now you know about me, and pretty much until today, you didn't even let me near her. And now you're not engaged anymore."

"No. It's not your fault in any way. Don't even think that."

"Is it that she doesn't want to have a step-daughter?"

"No, of course she wants one, especially you. It's not her, April. It's actually me. I thought I needed to get to know you first, before giving Lorelai a chance to get to know you. But, that didn't work. She's part of my life, just like you are, and she really thinks you're great. She wanted to get to know you, but I messed it up. I didn't know what to do, and if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. You and Lorelai, you two should be close." He held us his hand to show his crossed fingers. "I should never have tried to separate two people I love most in the world. And Rory, too. You're going to love her once you really get to know her."

She looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

"So, even though you're an adult, you still mess things up?"

He laughed, "Oh, yeah. We just mess up on a much larger scale."

"Then what's the use of growing up?" she asked in all seriousness.

"I wish I knew," he said while shaking his head.

~*~*~

TBC


	7. Chapter 7 Red for Passionate Love

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 7 – Red for Passionate Love  
**

~*~*~

A/N: Thank you, **Jewels12, **my Beta,for all your positive feedback and your help with making my story flow. As always, you find things that I'd never see in a million years! Without you, Lorelai would be an x-ray visioned mafiosa!

~*~*~

"Tada!" April said exuberantly as she entered Luke's tiny apartment kitchen and twirled in front of him. "What do you think?"

Luke looked up from his ledger and observed April's outfit intently. She was dressed in a brightly printed top with wide, bunched straps that covered most of her shoulders. The bodice was boldly striped in yellow and green, over a blue background, fitting snugly at her waist, then flaring out. The stripes met up with large squares of the same color, and draped softly over a pair of unassuming jeans. They rested on her hips and belled slightly at the hem, mostly covering the flat, yellow-strapped sandals on her feet.

Luke was impressed. When he heard that Lorelai had helped pick out an outfit, he expected to see a miniature version of Lorelai's whimsical style. He had hoped that she wouldn't choose anything too sophisticated or too revealing for April, and she hadn't. It was all April: young, fresh, innocent, and colorful. She positively glowed. He could tell that she felt like a million bucks.

"You look, um, like a teenager. Beautiful, and grown up."

"That's exactly what I was going for. Lorelai said I looked at least 14 in this outfit. I think it's the cerulean."

"Yeah, it could be the cerulean. But maybe it's you. You look so…mature." He couldn't get over how his little girl had disappeared and was replaced by the young lady standing in front of him.

"So, which hair clip should I use, the cerulean one, to go with the dominant color?" She held one clip up to her hair. "Or the yellow one, to go with the accent?" she asked, while holding up the other.

Luke raised his hands with his palms facing out. "Um, you're asking the wrong person. I don't know anything about hair pins."

April's face grew slightly serious, as she tried to decide. "Too bad Lorelai had to leave, she has really cool taste."

"Yeah, she said she would have loved to have seen you in your new outfit, but she and Rory have dinner with her parents on Friday nights."

"Don't you go with them?"

"Not if I can help it. Besides, tonight I wanted to be here while you got ready for your party. I want to make sure you get picked up all right. I'll be here, if you need to call. For anything, you know. I'm right here by the phone."

"Dad, you don't have to _stay_ by the phone. You have a cell phone. The point of a cell phone, is that you take it _with you_ and you don't have to sit at home."

"Yeah, but what if you need me to be _here_?"

"I can still call you on the cell."

"I guess so. But it doesn't matter, I'm here anyway. So, you know, if you need me to pick you up. Or, um, if one of those boys, you know, um tries to um…Will there be kissing at this party?" he asked, before standing up and removing his wallet from his pocket.

"Dad! Ewww! I don't want to talk about this!"

"I know, you probably don't. But I get to ask. It's part of my rights as a father. I get to worry about you. And I get to worry about boys. And I get to worry about you and boys. So, if there is kissing, you don't have to…partake just because everyone else is. I know you're growing up on the outside, but you're still my little girl for a long time to come. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Here's some money in case you need anything." He handed her a twenty.

"Thanks, Dad. And don't worry. I don't think the boy that I want to kiss wants to kiss me anyway."

"The boy that you _want to_ kiss?" He plopped back down in his chair.

"Um, why aren't you spending time with Lorelai tonight? It's Friday night, I'm finally going out, and you guys can be alone to, you know, regroup."

"I told you, she's with her parents for dinner."

"Perfect, then after dinner, you can take her somewhere."

"No. She's not expecting me; we didn't plan anything."

"Come on. You know she loves surprises, and this is a no-brainer. I've seen how she gets all dressed up for dinner over there. You can get dressed up, too. Pick her up and take her dancing. Girls love that stuff. It's so romantic."

"You really think she'd want to be surprised like that?"

"Dad." She gave him her best don't-you-know-anything-about-women looks.

"I guess you're right. She would like it. Maybe I'll call Richard and Emily to let them know before Lorelai gets there."

They heard a faint honking and April looked out of the window. "They're here!" She jumped excitedly and said, "Go for it Dad! She'll love it. I can tell she misses you."

"Well, I'm thinking about it. You be careful, and use your head. Call my cell if you need anything. I'll expect you home no later than 10:30. After that, I come looking for you."

"Daaaad!" she whined dramatically.

"Ok, go! Remember what I said about the kissing."

"Ewww! And Dad, thanks for worrying about me. I never knew what it was like to have a dad worry about me. This is weird, but, I kinda like it."

"I know," Luke nodded while blinking back the emotion from his eyes.

~*~*~

Lorelai sat swirling the olive in her martini, wondering why on earth her parents were so intent on keeping her for another after dinner cocktail. Usually after drinks, appetizers, dinner, and dessert, they'd had their fill of Lorelai and were more than happy to accompany her to the door with plastered-on smiles and an air kiss to the side of her face from her mother. But tonight, they seemed to have upped their quota for idle chitchat. Even after Rory had to leave, they came up with one flimsy excuse after another to keep her glass full and her mouth moving.

When the doorbell rang, Emily and Richard weren't the least bit surprised. They hadn't mentioned that they were having guests so she knew something was up. A feeling of dread slammed into her gut as visions of Christopher flashed through her mind. She was in no way prepared to see him after the last fight they had. The last thing in the world she needed was for him to join forces with her parents.

She could always handle Christopher alone, she could usually handle her father alone, and she could sometimes handle her mother alone. But she'd never be able to stand up to all of them if they joined forces. _They wouldn't? Would they?_ she thought. No, Emily's MO would be to invite him for the full five-course dinner, using the perennial excuse that he's Rory's father.

She looked up at Emily and recognized the familiar smug smile tugging at her lips before Emily said, "Well, well, I wonder who that could be. Rosa, please answer the door." Then to Lorelai and Richard, she said, "Honestly, you'd think the referral service could send a maid who could actually _hear_ the sound of our doorbell. It's almost as if they have an entire fleet of selectively deaf maids, just hanging around, waiting to work for us."

"Who's here?" Lorelai asked nervously, deciding not to comment on Emily's admission that she'd actually _had_ an entire fleet of maids work for her.

"You'll see," Emily answered.

"No, I really need to know. Who is here?" Lorelai implored, feeling the color drain from her face.

Richard coughed, and Emily's overly proud smile blossomed as Rosa announced, "Mr. Danes has arrived."

Lorelai couldn't contain her surprise as she turned to face Luke. Her smile beamed across the room and landed on him. He was dressed in his Friday night dinner regalia, complete with a charcoal gray dress shirt, jacket, and complementing necktie that she picked out for him. He carried a long, thin box with a gold-rimmed cellophane lid, and a red velvet bow on one end. In his other hand, he carried two gold and black boxes, the size of thick paperback books.

His eyes met hers and he instantly knew that April was right. Lorelai loved surprises. She stood to meet him as he entered the room. "Hi," she said, her face still illuminated with joy.

"Hi." He brushed a kiss on her cheek and she could feel the soft smoothness of his freshly shaved face, and could smell the sharp masculine tang of his aftershave.

"I can't believe you're here," she said, still happily shocked.

"I wanted to take you out for a little while, I hope you're up for it," he explained quickly, before turning his attention to the elder Gilmores. "Emily, you look great, as always." He nodded to her. "Richard." Luke extended his hand and the men shook firmly.

"Luke," Richard said.

Before Luke even presented the box, Emily knew that it held the only flower that could signify true, passionate love. His phone call at first was an irritation to her. He was a pebble in her shoe, asking to come over and pick Lorelai up, like some high school prom date. Then, she realized he was sincere in his desire to surprise Lorelai, so she softened her attitude to almost pity him. He seemed so tentative and unsure.

But, when he asked Emily for her opinion, about flowers, no less, honestly seeking help and advice from her, she felt useful and knowledgeable. Her tone softened and she was more than flattered, she was honored that he wanted, no, _sought out_ her advice. She hadn't felt useful to Lorelai in years. In his own way, he made Emily relevant, and helpful to the self-sufficient daughter that she had raised. Perhaps if Emily and Richard hadn't been such overachievers themselves, they wouldn't have been so successful in raising the epitome of self-sufficiency that was Lorelai Gilmore.

"This is for you." He looked into Lorelai's eyes as he presented her with the long box. She looked through the cellophane to see a single, beautiful, long-stem red rose.

"Oh, Luke." Lorelai said, her eyes instantly growing shiny. She lifted the cover, and removed the rose, neglecting to see the small vellum envelope tucked to the side. Holding the flower to her nose, she inhaled deeply. "It smells amazing. It's so sweet, like sugar. Thank you. It's perfect."

"You're welcome," he said, holding her gaze intently. "Oh, and I heard that a florist wasn't worth his salt if he didn't carry Godiva." He glanced at Emily briefly, and she arched an eyebrow at him before he handed Lorelai one of the smaller boxes.

Lorelai looked stunned. "Thank you," her voice managed to creak.

"And this is for you, Emily," he said, handing the gilded box of confections to Emily, as they exchanged conspiratorial glances: his of gratitude, hers of approval.

The look of sheer joy on Lorelai's face was not lost on Emily. She observed every nuance of their interaction, realizing that they were still very much in love, no matter what Lorelai's empty ring finger signified.

"Well, let's not stand here in the entry. Come in and have a seat," Emily said in invitation. "Can you stay for an aperitif before you two depart?"

Luke glanced at Lorelai's almost full glass on the coffee table and decided in favor of staying. "Yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

Happy that the testosterone-estrogen scale had tipped to a more even balance, Richard jumped to the helm of the liquor cart and asked, "What will it be, my boy?" Lorelai and Emily watched the interaction with bemused smiles.

"I'll have a scotch, neat," Luke said confidently, although he hadn't quite acquired the taste for scotch. But, Richard drank scotch, and if that were the way to bond with him, he'd try it. After all, if Richard and Emily were happy with him, then it was bound to trickle down to Lorelai's happiness. It couldn't hurt, anyway.

"Very well, then, scotch it is. I think you'll find this blended twenty-year-old to your satisfaction," he said, as he handed the monogrammed crystal to Luke. Luke thanked him and took a swig, surprised to find that Richard's scotch didn't force his face into twists of displeasure.

Lorelai couldn't keep her eyes off of Luke. She was so excited to see him; it had been a long time since he had surprised her. And finding him here, to be with her as her partner and her confidant in the middle of the place that she considered hostile territory, was greatly comforting.

"So, Lorelai tells us that April is visiting," Emily said.

"Yes, April's mother had to go take care of her own mother. So I get to spend some quality time with my daughter for a few weeks," Luke explained.

"And I hear she's smart," Richard added.

"Oh, yes. She's something else. I don't know where she gets it. But she's definitely up there," Luke said with a twinkle of pride in his eye.

Lorelai added, "She's highly intelligent, you two would be impressed. She's like Rory, only instead of literature and journalism, she's eerily brilliant in biology and chemistry."

"Oh, yes, a hard sciences girl." Richard said, nodding.

"Lorelai saved the day yesterday. Did she tell you? She really came through for me with April," Luke said, looking admiringly at Lorelai.

"I didn't really do anything. I just helped her buy some girly stuff that she needed."

Luke said to the Gilmores, "Lorelai must have the motherhood gene or something, because she just knows exactly what to say, and exactly what to do. I'm baffled, but to her it's as easy as breathing." Then to Lorelai, he said, "She looked beautiful in the outfit that you helped her pick out."

"Well, instead of just hearing about this wonderful girl, why don't we get to know her?" Emily's tone suddenly changed to carry a subtly sharp edge.

"Oh, Mom, I'm not so…" Lorelai was cut off.

"We insist. Right, Richard?" He nodded. "Next Friday night, we'll all have dinner here. We need to meet this girl genius," Emily said, with a note of finality that nobody dared argue with.

Luke swirled his scotch before he took another swig. He just remembered why he avoided Friday night dinners.

~*~*~

TBC


	8. Chapter 8 Fire and Rain

**Fight For Us**

**Chapter 8 – Fire and Rain**

~*~*~

A/N: Julie Spooly, otherwise known as **Jewels12** has done it again with her awesome beta skills. Thank so much, you make me look so much better!

This is my last chance to pimp the **Support Stacie Auction!** It's coming right up this weekend, April 3-6! For sixty-nine hours (nope, not sixty-eight, or seventy) and you can purchase my twisted mind to write a fanfic of your choice. Or, stop by and chat with me during the Chat-a-thon. My half hour is on Saturday, April 4th at 3:30pm EST. I'd love to hear what you think!!! So come on down and Support Stacie!

~*~*~

"So, where is my gorgeous hunk of a man taking me?" she asked, while holding the rose up to her nose and breathing it in deeply.

"Just to a little club, for some music, and maybe even a dance or two." He smiled as they pulled into the parking lot at the historic riverfront section of Downtown Hartford.

"Alright! Where is Luke and what have you done with him?" she said in exaggerated horror.

"Can't I take my lady out to a nice place without getting any lip from her?"

"Lip? I'll give you lip!" she said with a sexy lilt.

"I hope so," he growled at her seductively, as he pulled up to the valet on the river's edge.

She turned to look at him with a surprised expression, knowing that he hated to use the valet; partially because he thought it a waste of money and the epitome of laziness, but mostly because he didn't like 'some snot-nosed kid' parking his truck. As old as his truck was, he still took pride in keeping it clean and in very good condition. But tonight was about his relationship with Lorelai, not with his truck. So he sucked it up and handed the young buck his keys, but not before he stared him down for a few seconds.

In a mock stern voice, Lorelai called over the truck bed, "Hey, Val-lay Dude! Don't even _think_ about touching my chocolate!"

He gave her a nervous half-smile and said, "Yes, ma'am. I mean, no, ma'am," before climbing in and driving away.

"Did you hear what he called me? I tell you, kids today!"

"What did he call you?" Luke asked, stopping in the middle of the parking lot, his jaw flexing.

"You didn't hear him?"

"No! What did he say?"

"He called me _ma'am_!"

"Jeez," he exhaled in relief. "I hate to break it to you, but you aren't too young to be a ma'am. You _do_ have a daughter in college."

"Nevertheless, he doesn't have to throw it in my face like that. Ma'am! Like I'm so decrepit, I couldn't possibly be a miss."

"Well, you'll be a decrepit ma'am soon enough," he said glibly, then immediately wished he hadn't. They walked in silence for a few yards, considering his words, both of them thinking that it wouldn't be soon enough.

As they neared their target dinner club, they were hit with the savory aroma of garlic and grilled steak that wafted to them on the river's gentle breeze. "Oh, man, smell that! It makes me want to order one of everything. The entire left side of the menu," Lorelai said, inhaling the scented air deeply.

"Why the left side? You haven't even looked at the menu."

"The left side always has the best stuff. Trust me."

"Oh, I have no doubt about your ordering skills. I've been taking your orders for eight years." He shook his head and smirked. "Anyway, you _just ate_ a full dinner, probably four courses."

"Five, but so what? There's no law that says I can't have an after dinner snack."

"One of these days your metabolism is going to catch up with your appetite. And then you'll look more like Miss Piggy than Kermit."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you likened me to a frog. A _boy_ frog. A _green_ boy frog."

"But they're Muppets; don't I get credit for that?" He flashed her a playful smile.

"Yes, Muppet points will be generously distributed, but we'll have to wait until we're in a more private place," she said flirtatiously.

"Lookin' forward to it," he said, arching one eyebrow.

"Would you still love me if I were huge?" she asked, half-seriously.

"Hmm. Let me think." He pretended to ponder deeply.

She elbowed him in the side, giggling. "You suck!"

His eyes shot up. "I suck? You just called me your gorgeous hunk of man. And now I suck?"

"Well, that's only one good use for you." She grinned at him playfully.

"Hey." He stopped and turned to look her in the eye. "I don't care if your metabolism grinds to a screeching halt and you gain a hundred pounds. You'd still be your crazy, goofball self, and I'd still love you."

His unexpected intensity took her breath away before she said, "Well, what if I gain one hundred and one pound? Will you still love me then?"

"Yep."

"One hundred and two?"

"Uh huh."

"One hundred and three?"

"Are we going to do this all night?" he grumped.

"Well, I want to know how much you'd love me. Would you love me at plus one hundred and four pounds?"

"Nope. I draw the line at one-oh-four."

"So, plus one-oh-three, yes. Plus one-oh-four, no? That's actually better than I'd do. Because if you gained one hundred pounds, I'd have to dump you and your jelly belly."

"Never gonna happen."

"I know," she said. After thinking for a minute, she added, "Luke, you know I'd still love you, though, right?"

"I know." He nodded sincerely. "Still, it's never gonna happen."

With a protective hand at the small of her back, he guided her between the skyscrapers through a corridor to the water's edge. They were greeted by a breathtaking view of the twinkling lights on the Connecticut River. The illuminated water was adorned by lazily bobbing boats moored in the slips near the patio. Their lights cast a warm glow on the flowing water.

As they passed through an ivy covered arch and walked to the hostess stand, they could hear the soft tones of the band, and the patrons' casual conversations punctuated with soft laughter.

The hostess greeted them and led them inside to a secluded bistro table. Lorelai set her rose down on the table, and Luke made sure she was seated comfortably. After the waitress took their order, he adjusted his chair alongside hers so he could watch the band with her. It consisted of six members, and scads of instruments were set up all around the platform stage.

The lead singer played acoustic guitar, all the other members sang as well. They were mostly dressed in jeans; each looked to be in his forties. They had the casual ease of knowing that they were good at what they did, as if they had nothing to prove and no fame to chase. It was evident that they worked hard at their chosen profession because they had talent, and they loved the music. Their specialty was a mixture of classic rock, a la Eric Clapton and James Taylor, with a little bit of Bob Seger thrown in for some medium tempo ballads. They also had a small repertoire of originals, and the well-dressed crowd seemed to know them very well.

Luke and Lorelai were immediately lulled into the soothing tunes and held hands on top of her knee, as they allowed their bodies to keep subtle rhythm with the drummer.

The waitress brought Luke his micro-brewed pale ale, and Lorelai a glass of sauvignon blanc. They opted, at Lorelai's insistence, and Luke's resistance, to get the combination appetizer platter for four.

They enjoyed the music, watched the band, and gazed at each other. Luke periodically whispered into her ear, making her smile or laugh lightly. She answered him back and they smiled and nodded. Once in a while he'd tuck the stray wavy lock that fell stubbornly in her face, behind her ear.

After nibbling on the platter and finishing their drinks, the band began to play a slow bluesy original. Luke looked at Lorelai the way he did when he was at a loss for words because he realized just how much he loved her. She smiled up at him the way she did when she realized that the man of her dreams was right in front of her. Wordlessly, he took her hand, and tilted his chin toward the dance floor. She nodded her acceptance, and he held her chair as she stood.

With his hand on her back, Luke led Lorelai to the floor. He turned to face her and they instantly closed the space between themselves. With her hands around his neck, and his arms circling her waist, they swayed to the music gently, looking into each other's eyes, before Lorelai lowered her head and rested it on his strong shoulder. His arms pulled her in tighter so they were pressed against each other in a warm embrace. Lorelai allowed Luke to lead her in graceful swaying turns, with their tightly pressed hips moving in unison.

After the song ended, the crowd gave an enthusiastic applause, accompanied by several wolf-whistles and loud hoots. Luke and Lorelai waited on the floor, hoping for another slow song. As they stood clapping, the lights dimmed.

The lead singer took center stage with just his instrument and a soft yellow trailing spotlight. He addressed the audience sedately. "I see some lovers out there," he said, looking directly at Luke and Lorelai. "This next song is dedicated to you. It's one of our favorites because it reminds us never to take a loved one for granted. There are lots of different background stories; some have to do with drug addiction, and kicking the habit for Sweet Baby James. My favorite version is the romantic interpretation, and it goes something like this: James was in love with a girl named Suzanne. They met at a rehab center when they were in their early twenties. After her release, they spoke on the phone supporting one another, until he finally got out. His friends wanted to surprise him by sending her to his concert, but he flight that they booked her on crashed. When you love somebody, remember to tell them so, and to cherish every moment, because you never know if you'll see them one more time again. Here it is: James Taylor's 'Fire and Rain.'

Luke took Lorelai in his arms again, and they hugged even tighter while listening to the words that hit so close to home.

_Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone_

_Susanne the plans they made put an end to you_

He kissed her hair as she rested her head. Lorelai closed her eyes and listened to the smooth, mellow crooning of the artist's interpretation and followed Luke's effortless lead.

_Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come_

_Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground_

Luke visualized each scene and they reminded him of how close he was to losing the love of his life. An overwhelming feeling of love passed through them as they held on tightly.

_Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain_

_I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end_

_I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend_

_But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now_

After listening to the last chorus, Lorelai lifted her face to his and they stared into each other's eyes. Thankful that they still had each other, they kissed tenderly before he led her by the hand to the patio. There they paused for several minutes, enjoying the silent comfort of each other.

The night had grown chilly and she was wearing a flimsy dinner dress and a loosely knit shrug, which didn't keep out the cool river breeze. Luke noticed her hugging her arms to her body, so he took off his jacket and pulled it around her shoulders. She instantly felt safe, tucked in the warm protective sheath he provided for her.

Lorelai leaned against the railing, and he stood behind her, with his chin resting on her shoulder as they gazed at the dancing lights reflected on the inky, black river. She leaned into him comfortably as he breathed in the familiar scent of her shampoo. He wondered how long it had actually been since they had gone anywhere together that they weren't required to be. He hugged her a little closer, recognizing the familiar feeling of guilt that washed over him as he contemplated how much he had allowed this relationship to slip away.

He nuzzled her neck with his clean-shaven face and she responded with purrs of contentment. "That feels nice," she said dreamily. He answered by rubbing her cheek more insistently and whispered how much he missed her into her ear. The timber of his voice resonated against her throat, causing a shiver to skip along her spine, in spite of her being wrapped up in Luke's jacket and his warm arms.

"You're not cold are you?" he asked.

"Nope. I'm warm as toast, right here with you," she said.

"See, you're always thinking about food," he teased.

"I'm not thinking about food right now," she said in a seductive voice as she turned around to face him. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers interlocking loosely at the nape, toying with the soft curls. He kissed her softly, savoring the taste of her sweet wine.

After a few tender kisses, they pulled away to look at each other. They gazed intently before leaning in and touching lips again. With her lips softly parted, she waited impatiently for him to claim her. His soft tongue slipped into her mouth and met hers eagerly. Their tongues dueled passionately, each seeking more of the other. Suckling softly, he pulled her tongue into his mouth and she emitted a quiet sultry hum of pleasure. They increased the intensity of their kisses, setting off long simmering sparks of desire.

"Are those keys in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Lorelai teased.

"I gave my keys to the valet," he said, before claiming her mouth again, and drawing out weeks of desire that they both had suppressed while trying to salvage the last shreds of their relationship. Just as they were falling into the passion for each other that had eluded them for so long, the band ended its set. They were joined by a rowdy group of revelers who poured out of the bar and onto the patio. Luke and Lorelai broke apart begrudgingly, mostly because of Luke's modesty. Slightly embarrassed, he flipped open his cell phone and checked to see if he had any messages. Lorelai watched his brow furrow slightly before he snapped it shut.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…yet. April is supposed to be home in a few minutes and I was just checking to see if I missed her call."

"So you were worrying about her?"

"No, well, yeah, I guess so. Lane's at the apartment. I'm paying her for a few extra hours to stay and be there when April gets home. Lane can use the money, and this at least keeps her off her feet."

"I'm sure she appreciates that."

"She does. She said she'd have April call as soon as she walks through the door. And nobody is more diligent about calling when she's supposed to than Lane is."

"You got that right! Mrs. Kim can kick some serious ass," Lorelai said admiringly. "She hasn't called yet?"

"No. But she's not late, either."

"So you don't officially start worrying until, when? 10:31?"

"Exactly." He nodded.

"Maybe she left you a text message."

"A what?"

"Let me see." She turned his hand so she could read it, then pointed to the icon. "See that little envelope? That means you have a text message."

"It does?" He held his arm out to see the phone better.

"Is your arm getting short?"

He rolled his eyes at her teasing him about his age. "So what do I do?"

"Push this, then this." She indicated which buttons for him to push.

"It's from April." He smiled broadly.

"Okay, open it like this and there's her text message."

"Oh, yeah. Look at that!" he marveled.

The message read: _on my way. b home in a few. ily._

" 'ily'? What's 'ily'?"

"You'll have to eat the entire box of Honey Combs before you get to the super decoder ring to decode the super secret message."

He gave her a stern glare in response.

"Don't look at me like that. It's for your own protection. If I tell you, I'll have to kill you," Lorelai continued. "You can figure it out. You have a teenage daughter now, so you'll have to learn text speak anyway."

He knew she wouldn't tell him, so he thought for a few seconds, then the corners of his mouth turned up. "C'mere. I-L-Y, L-G," he growled into her ear.

"I-L-Y, 2, L-D." She held up two fingers and smiled into his kiss.

"I'm just gonna call her." He gestured to the phone.

"Of course you're going to call her, worry wart," she said lovingly, knowing that she was throwing stones from her glass house. "I'll go powder my nose and get our drinks while you call."

By the time she returned with two fresh drinks in her hand, she found Luke looking pensively at the sights. She placed the cocktails on a nearby table and hugged his waist from behind. "Is she home?"

"Yep, she's home, safe and sound." She continued to hold him in silence for several minutes, sensing that he wanted to say more. "I have no idea how you did it alone," he said quietly, before he cast his eyes downward and swallowed slowly.

"What is it?" Lorelai asked, her face etched with concern as she moved to his side to look up at him.

"I was just thinking. Um…I wonder…what I ever did for Anna to hate me so much. So much…that she'd rather raise April alone, than tell me about her," he said, using all his reserve to keep his voice from cracking.

Lorelai blinked back her own tears as she tried to reassure him, "What Anna did says way more about her than it does about you, Luke. What she did was so, so wrong. You didn't deserve this. I have no idea what to say, except I'm sorry, and I'm here for you. I love you so much. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. But I'm here for you."

"I know you are, Lorelai. I don't say this enough, but I…I need you. I need to be with you tonight; it's been way too long. Can we just forget about your Jeep and pick it up tomorrow?"

"What Jeep?" she said, looking intently into his eyes.

"Right, what Jeep?" He smiled as he brushed his lips across hers, saying, "Let's go."

~*~*~

At Lorelai's house, their long overdue lovemaking was soft and tender. Beyond the mere physical, they connected on an emotional level that had been missing for several months. Their bodies were familiar, yet missed, as they reassured one another. Each touch was a confirmation of their commitment. Each caress was a soothing balm that healed their wounds. Each gesture of intimacy served to fuse them together. And each kiss was a promise never to leave. Their union was not an all consuming fire, but rather a nurturing ritual of fulfillment, gentle but not tentative. They received pleasure from giving and receiving, relishing the slow, steady build up of desire and the shared release of passion.

Feeling closer to him than she ever had, Lorelai couldn't help but allow her eyes to express the relief and happiness that filled her. Luke kissed her tears, understanding exactly how she felt. They embraced for several minutes afterward, allowing the intimacy to remain between them, as they thought of nothing else but the love they shared.

Knowing that he was dangerously close to falling asleep with Lorelai wrapped comfortably in his arms, he said the inevitable, "Baby, I need to go."

"I know," she said, almost succeeding in hiding her disappointment.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could stay all night, I really do."

"Hey, you don't have to explain. I know all about parental responsibilities, and I'd never hold them against you. The way you are with April only makes me admire you more," she said sincerely. "Doesn't mean I want you to go, though."

"I know. I wish I could stay every night, and wake up with you every morning," he said, drawing her in even closer.

"I do, too. Believe me, there's nothing I want more."

"The being together, that would be us married, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah, I wish we were already; then we would be together every night."

"Lorelai, when I think about us being married – and I often do – I think we're going to be really good at it."

"Yeah, we'll be wonderful at the marriage part; it's the engagement part that we suck at."

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't disagree.

~*~*~

TBC

A/N: I know James Taylor has a different version of his story, but this is the one that the lead singer of my fictional band wanted to relay!  Thanks so much for reading!


	9. Chapter 9 Those Damn Danes

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 9 – Those Damn Danes**

~*~*~

A/N: Thank you so much **Jewels12** for Betaing this chapter for me. As always, you rock the commas! I'm so glad to have you.

And for the capitalization police: You don't capitalize french fries, dutch ovens, or danish pastry. Don't believe me? Feel free to look it up.

~*~*~

In the silent wake of April's departure for school, Luke turned the dial with practiced ease. After completing the sequence that he had memorized for decades, he cranked the lever and tugged on the reinforced door.

He removed the velvet box and sat on the couch before opening it. His mother's ring was so small. He turned it over and over in his hand inspecting it, as if seeing it for the first time. Her wedding band was made of unassuming platinum, adorned with three small diamonds that were set into the ring, making it a flat band. It was dainty, but solid, like he remembered his mother, although, for the life of him, he couldn't remember seeing her wearing the ring. But that didn't keep him from feeling connected to her as he slid it onto his pinky, stopping just above his first knuckle.

He lifted his father's ring and studied it carefully. It was unadorned, and had once been thicker, but now the edges were warn smooth. Luke remembered his father wearing the band every day, even after his mother died.

The elder Danes mentioned that he wanted Luke to keep the rings safe and to keep them together. He hadn't really taken them out to look at them in several years, but he felt like he needed some strength and guidance as he slipped his father's ring on. Remembering how large his father's hands were, Luke was surprised to find that if fit so snuggly. He opted not to shove it down over his knuckle for fear that he wouldn't be able to remove it.

Luke wondered when his hands had grown larger than his father's, whose hands always seemed so huge and so strong. Luke thought back to all the times his father's hands were wrapped around a baseball as he demonstrated to him the proper grip for a knuckleball or a slider.

He recalled the times that his father worked patiently with customers at the hardware store, always talking with his hands, demonstrating the safe and proper way to use a drill driver or how to repair a leaky pipe. His strong and capable hands always seemed larger than life to Luke. But now, his ring proved that Luke had continued to grow, and life had gone on. So many years had passed since his father's death, and Luke still missed him, some days more than others, and today was one of those days.

Staring at the ring, he wondered what his father would say. His dad wasn't one to dole out unsolicited advice, but Luke imagined him saying, "If you don't know what to do, don't do anything. Then, if you still don't know what to do, follow your heart." Luke had already done nothing. Now he needed to follow his heart.

~*~*~

Lorelai woke early, but leisurely on her day off. She knew Luke would be arriving soon, and they'd get to spend the whole day together. She looked forward to him coming over, especially since they had nothing planned. And not that it wasn't going great with April, but she would be at school, then swimming practice, and Lorelai would have Luke – her old Luke –all to herself again. In the past week, it seemed like they were finally in sync, and she was beginning to feel more secure about their relationship.

She found herself counting down the minutes that he would be there, hopefully very soon after April's ride picked her up for school. She had already consumed most of her pot of coffee, and was working on a fresh hot cup, as she filled the teakettle for Luke's arrival. She fanned out the tea bags and displayed them on a plate so he could pick which one he wanted. Then she arranged some fruit that she bought, just for him, in a bowl. She set a knife and a napkin down, knowing that sometimes he liked to cut his oranges, rather than peel them. She also pulled some oatmeal packets out of the cupboard, in case he hadn't had a proper breakfast yet, though she knew he probably already ate with April. She just wanted to do something for him; he was always taking care of her. And even though she was a lousy cook, she was more than capable of arranging food to look pretty on a plate.

She ran her fingers gently over the velvety petals of the rose that he had given her this weekend. Its beauty had withered and its aroma had faded, but her heart still skipped as she thought about what it represented. She wanted to preserve it, so she removed it from the bud vase on the center of the table, and snipped off the bottom of the wet stem. She hung it upside down on her cupboard pull by the red ribbon that adorned the box it came in.

While she was retrieving the ribbon, she noticed the envelope. She smiled at her newly found 'gift' and opened it, her stomach feeling like it was host to scores of restless butterflies. Inside, she found a card with hearts and roses printed on it. In Luke's masculine block letters, it read simply: _I'm still 'all in' love with you._ She covered her mouth with one hand and blinked back her emotions. Feeling like she was floating on a proverbial cloud, she hummed softly as she bounded up the stairs.

~*~*~

When Luke arrived at Lorelai's house, she opened the door freshly showered, wearing jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt. She greeted him with a warm but quick kiss, and eagerly took the Styrofoam cup that he was carrying off his hands.

"Oh, god! Thank you !" she gushed, while lifting the lid and inhaling the steamy aroma.

"You're welcome. I brought you something else, too," he said, handing her a small white bag. She practically danced toward the kitchen as she took it, weighing the bag in her hand, trying to guess which goodies he had chosen for her. She opened the bag and pulled out a treat. "Danishes! That's what I was hoping for. Thanks," she enthused, wasting no time tearing into one.

"So, what do we have to do today?" he asked, igniting the fire under the tea kettle, and noticing the little spread she had laid out for him. Although they had spent the past few weeks spending 'Luke and Lorelai Tuesdays and Thursdays' as planned, most of the time was spent running errands, or working on projects around her house. They hadn't really taken time to relax, but at least they got to be together.

"Nothing." She smiled over the rim of her cup.

"Really? Nothing?"

"That's right, nothing. No thing. Not a thing. Niente. Nada. Zero. Zip. Zilch," she said cheerily. Luke glanced at her coffee pot and could see that she had already finished off most of it, and he wasn't even sure that was her first pot. But he could see the effects of the caffeine in her speech pattern and had second thoughts about the wisdom of him bringing her more.

"No dry cleaning to pick up?" he asked, sitting in front of the place she had set for him.

"No."

"No library books to return?"

"Niet." She toyed with the hair on his arm as he moved around the tea bags, choosing an herbal blend with peppermint.

"No shopping for the perfect shoelaces?" He put his hand over hers and gave her an impish grin.

"Non."

"Feeling a little international today?"

"Oui. Take this danish for example. I don't understand these people. They live in Denmark, but they're called Danes. Why is that?"

"You're asking me?"

"Well, you _are_ a Danes, aren't you? Which is sort of funny because that's a plural word, and you're singular." He sat and watched her patiently and lovingly as she prattled on.

"So, if you're a person from Denmark, you're a Dane, unlike you, who is a Danes. But if you're a pastry from Denmark you aren't a Dane, you're a danish. Just a danish, like that explains everything." Luke watched her face flashing moods like a disco ball, dazzling and captivating. Her blue eyes sparkled as she verbalized every thought in her head. He nodded and smiled, staring at her lovely, soft lips and the upturned curves at their edges. She continued her free association concerning the intricacies of her breakfast. "...not even capitalized or anything. Like if I were eating schnitzel and we called it 'german' with a little g. Or if I were eating chicken paprikash, it would be called 'hungarian'. That's crazy. And don't get me started on the Dutch..."

Unable to contain himself for one moment longer, he interrupted, "Lorelai."

"Yes?" She stopped chattering at the low urgent timber of his voice.

"It's time for you to put this back on," he said, taking the ring out of his breast pocket. She held her breath, and it felt as if her heart would beat out of her chest while they looked into each other's eyes.

"It's time," she said, still holding his gaze while allowing him to slip the ring onto her finger. She stretched her hand out in front of her and admired their diamond, dabbing her eyes with the back of her right thumb.

"Good, then you're wearing it now." He nodded as he pulled her from her chair onto his lap, and held her tightly.

"Yeah, I'm wearing it now," she said softly, nuzzling into him.

He hugged her to him and kissed the side of her face. After several minutes, he said, "So, why don't you finish telling me about he Dutch?"

"Um, okay. The Dutch," she started out hesitantly, but his loving gaze urged her to continue. "What is it with people who start with the letter D? They're from the Netherlands, and they're called Dutch. Then there's the whole issue of Holland. What's up with Holland anyway? Is it a country, a state, or a city? Oh, I bet it's a province! I love the word 'provincial'. And the wooden shoes. They just seem so uncomfortable. They get dutch ovens, and dutch doors, and dutch treats, which by the way, I am no fan of, my friend. But, I don't get the whole double dutch thing, where did it come from and why do _they_ get to use it?" She smiled and happily chattered on as they allowed the familiar comfort of love to wash over them.

~*~*~

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10 A Whole New Can of Worms

**Fight For Us**

**Chapter 10 – A Whole New Can of Worms**

~*~*~

Thank you so much **Jewels!** Sometimes I need you so much more than other times, and this chapter was one of those times. It really did suck before you got your sand sculpture-making hands on it. Thanks so much for all of your help and for your unwavering support. You make fan fiction so much more enjoyable!

Some of you might notice a special shout-out to **Lulu** here for helping me with some GG details, not necessarily in this chapter, but throughout my stories. She knows all!

~*~*~

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Lorelai said, standing under her parents' portico, buying some time before ringing the bell.

"It's the right thing for us, Lorelai," Luke answered plainly, although if pressed, he'd have to admit to having some apprehension as well.

"We finally have no errands to run and nothing important to do. But instead of lounging in bed all day with my fiancé," she couldn't help smiling at the word, "we're at my parents' house. Something is seriously wrong with this picture," she huffed.

"I'm the one who has to wear a tie in the middle of the day. This isn't exactly easy for me either. But, we don't want to have the 'why didn't you tell us sooner' conversation on Friday night, in front of April and Rory, do we?" he asked.

"No, I guess not," she said, impressed at how well he was getting to know Emily and Richard.

"Don't worry. We'll have plenty of time to celebrate _after_ our visit."

"Does the celebration entail more of you naked and in my bed?" she cooed.

"Um, possibly." He tugged at his sleeves, trying not to allow the image of their morning frolic to stay with him.

"Okay, but you have no idea what we're getting into. We're opening a whole new can of worms here. And not some itty-bitty, little worms either. I'm talking long, squirmy night crawlers, oozing around in a huge rusty can," she warned.

"I get the picture, and I'll take the chance." He smiled at her reassuringly. "They'll want to be involved. And it takes a lot of pressure off us. With their help, we can concentrate on just being together." Lorelai took a deep breath, smoothed out her skirt, and then unnecessarily straightened Luke's tie. "I'm here with you. It'll be okay," he said.

She looked up at him and he kissed her sweetly. The heavy door opened while they were in mid-embrace. "You're here." Emily said, though she didn't act surprised to find them kissing on her front porch.

"Oh, hello, Mother," Lorelai said, covering her smirk with the back of her hand. "Where's Rosa?"

"It's a long story that I don't wish to rehash. Let's just say it had something to do with hearing aids and her refusal to be fitted for one," Emily retorted as Luke and Lorelai passed a quick glance to one another.

"Hello, Emily. Thank you for inviting us to lunch on such short notice," Luke said, acutely aware of his tie digging into his neck, but refusing to fidget in Emily's company.

"Yes, well, come in." She led them past the foyer and into the living room. "Richard, Lorelai and Luke are here," she called across the hall into his office. "He's a workhorse, that man. He's been in his office or on the phone all week. He looks so tired. I hope he's not over doing it."

"I wouldn't worry about Dad, Mom. It's his work that keeps him young. He loves it," Lorelai said.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Emily agreed hesitantly. Lorelai thought she noticed a flash of concern on her mother's face. Richard entered and Emily switched into her 'pleasant corporate wife' mask, right before their eyes.

Richard wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and put it into his coat pocket as he approached the rest of them. "Well, hello, Luke," he said extending his hand. They shook and Richard greeted his daughter. "Hello, Lorelai."

"Hi, Dad."

"It isn't very often that we have you two here for lunch during the week. What will it be?" Richard asked, sounding pleased, but a little winded.

"How about some champagne?" Lorelai said, her arm tucked comfortably through Luke's.

"So, what's new?" Emily asked, glancing conspicuously at Lorelai's ring. Luke nodded at Lorelai, encouraging her to tell them.

"Well, Mom, Dad," she looked from one to the other, unable to contain her smile, even though she was a little nervous about their reaction, "Luke and I are ready to get married."

"That's marvelous!" Richard said, before hugging Lorelai and clapping Luke on the back. "Champagne it is," he decided, then busied himself with the ice bucket and glasses.

Emily stood motionless, as Richard congratulated them. "Mom… do you… are you happy for us?" Lorelai asked, biting on her bottom lip.

"Of course I am," Emily said. Her eyed misted as she hugged her daughter, then a surprised and awkward Luke.

Lorelai and Luke had been through so much in the past year. Emily could honestly say now that she believed Lorelai had never truly been happy without Luke. And only recently she recognized that this man might be the best thing that had ever happened to her daughter. He was steady and stable, she could tell that he was kind, but he didn't take any of Lorelai's nonsense. He actually took a lot of her nonsense, and he even seemed to enjoy it, but he knew when to stand firm. And most of all, he loved her to no end.

Independent Lorelai, who didn't need or want anything or anybody, had found the one person that she would accept help from. Right from the very start of their friendship, Lorelai allowed this man past her stubborn wall of independence and Emily had to admit that it often gave her comfort to know that Luke was nearby, just in case Lorelai ever needed anything. God knows she'd never call her mother or father if she needed help. But she always called Luke. Emily could see that they were partners then, now, and they would be for life.

Luke was a real man, unlike that perpetual adolescent Christopher, or that boring schoolteacher, what's-his-name, or even the insufferable, neurotic Jason. The other men couldn't hold a candle to Luke. Luke might be strong enough to keep her daughter happy. If nothing else, he'd keep her in Connecticut, close to them. This was one man who wasn't going anywhere.

Richard opened the bottle, and Champagne was poured all around. He raised his glass high and proud as he toasted his only daughter and her fiancé. "To my beautiful daughter, Lorelai. I knew you were special the day we brought you home from the hospital. To Luke, a man whom I've grown to admire. Make our baby girl happy; she means the world to us. And to both of you, I wish you as many years of love and joy that Emily and I have shared." He looked lovingly at his wife and they shared a private smile.

"Hear, hear." They all toasted and drank; even Luke took a sip without wincing.

Luke gave Lorelai a quick kiss and a tight hug before she wiped her eyes.

"I just knew he would gush. That Toastmasters Group is full of sappy old men," Emily said, blinking rapidly herself.

"Now, Emily, this is my only daughter and she deserves to be happy," he said, while looking directly at Luke. Luke nodded, just beginning to realize the depth of a father's protectiveness over his little girl.

After they finished the bottle of champagne, a maid unfamiliar to Lorelai appeared and announced that lunch was served. They made their way into the dining room, slightly less uptight than when Luke and Lorelai arrived.

"So, tell me, when is the big day?" Emily said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.

"That's just it. We're not sure yet," Lorelai said, uneasily.

"But you're wearing the ring. The ring means there's an engagement. The engagement is the date," Emily primly decried.

"Believe me, Mom, we know. That's just it. We're here because we need your help."

"Very well, I'll get my checkbook then," Richard said, beginning to rise from his armchair.

Lorelai was right; Luke had no idea what he was getting into. They'd been here less than a half hour and he'd already been insulted to the very core. Luke had been taking care of himself since high school. He never asked anyone for anything. If he needed something, he did it on his own. _He_ was the one who helped people, not the other way around. Luke Danes wasn't in the business of taking money from anyone, or owing anyone a single cent. Lorelai could see his jaw begin to work, and the tips of his ears darken. She put a steadying hand on his arm and pressed gently. It instantly calmed him and he took a breath before saying, "That won't be necessary, Richard." He held eye contact until Richard looked away.

"Not that kind of help, Dad. But thank you. We're going to pay for it ourselves, every dime."

Emily groaned, thinking that this was Lorelai's way of keeping her out of the planning. She had a hard time pretending that her feelings weren't hurt as she hid behind righteous indignation. "Of course you'd want to pay for it all yourself. God forbid we try to be involved. Now, what could you possibly need from us?"

"We were thinking more along the lines of you helping us make some decisions," Lorelai said.

Emily and Richard exchanged glances and Lorelai felt the need to explain further. "We need help with the wedding planning." The lines in Emily's face instantly softened, and her eyebrows arched as she gave them her full attention.

"We don't want to be engaged," Luke said.

Emily's face dropped and Richard said, "I'm somewhat confused."

"We just want to be married," Luke clarified, reaching for Lorelai's hand.

Lorelai added, "It turns out that we're terrible at the whole being engaged thing. Who knew? So we want to skip the hassle and go directly to the marriage. The sooner, the better." Emily opened her mouth to protest, but Lorelai cut her off, "We talked about eloping, but I can't get married without you two there. It just wouldn't be right."

Emily and Richard both remained mute, each saying a silent prayer of thanks that their only daughter hadn't eloped.

"We have a guest list," Luke said, trying to fill the awkward silence. He pulled the folded paper out of his coat pocket and gave it to Lorelai.

Lorelai took it and said, "We talked about this, and this is what we want. These are the people we want to share our day with. It wouldn't be a wedding without them. Will you promise to stick to just this list? It's really the only thing that we'll insist on. If you agree, then we'll let you pick the music, the flowers, the place, the time, the food, and everything else, except my dress. It can be whatever you want."

Emily's imagination began chomping at the bit, sprinting happily into the future as she pictured Lorelai's fabulous wedding. It wouldn't be a Romanoff themed ice castle, since it would be taking place this summer. But she was involved… no, she was _in charge_, and Lorelai needed her. "I'll have to invite the Kranskys from California and the…"

"Mom, really. Only the people who we need to have at our wedding are on this list. Will you please stick to it?"

"That's the only contingency we have." Luke looked at her squarely and she knew that she had to agree, or run the risk of being shut out completely.

"Very well. Let me see the list." She held out her hand and Lorelai unfolded it then relinquished it.

Emily scanned the list and gasped. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"Eleven people, counting the bride and groom?"

"Yes, Mother," Lorelai said holding her breath. Richard harrumphed from his seat at the head of the table as a warning to Emily, and continued to eat his chicken kiev.

"Oh, and we're not even sure bout Liz and TJ since Liz is expecting in a few weeks," Luke interjected.

"You mean to tell me that besides those of us in this very room, we only have Rory, April, Jess, Sookie, and Jackson? So nine people? That's not a proper wedding."

"I know, it's not very big, Mom. But think of how beautiful and intimate it will be. It's such a small party, that we can fit almost anywhere and that will make it so much easier to find a place. We can even have it at the country club. The Versailles room is gorgeous; you said so yourself. Or, we can have it on a yacht, anywhere you want, Mom. Will you help us?" Lorelai seemed so enthusiastic and passionate about her list that Richard and Emily softened.

"Well, I guess we can work it out," Emily said, slightly disappointed that she didn't get to show off her daughter to the entire DAR board.

"Mom, it'll be beautiful, you'll see. With only eleven people max, you can go all out. I'm giving you free rein here. I'm talking dancing midgets and mushrooms, if that's what you want." Luke looked horrified.

"Oh, don't be silly, that was for Sookie's wedding. Yours will be very different. I already have it envisioned."

"You have?"

"Of course I have. You'll be a beautiful bride. And the wedding will be wonderful. Won't it, Richard?" Emily said, with shiny eyes. As an afterthought, Emily asked, "Do you have anything else that's important to you?"

"I have a few suggestions, but the guest list is the most important. Sookie is going to be a guest, so she is absolutely not allowed to do one bit of cooking. She's working too hard as it is, and if she gets involved, I might as well do the whole thing myself, because she will drive me crazy every day from now to the wedding, making me taste this and taste that. And then she'll do what she wants to anyway." Lorelai could see that Emily hadn't fully grasped her plea, so she brought out the big guns. "And believe me, you'll lose complete control of the menu if that happens. It would defeat the whole purpose of us asking for your help."

"So, no Sookie," Emily stated decisively. There was no way she was giving up an ounce of control. "What about you, Luke? Do you have any special requests?" She had to ask, though she cringed that maybe his idea might be to get married on a pitcher's mound, or that he'd want to wear a plaid cummerbund.

"Actually, I do," he said. Lorelai turned to face him, clearly surprised. "What I have in mind, Emily, is the rose that you helped me pick."

"You'd like _red_ roses for a summer wedding?" Her eyebrows came together in the center. "That's not entirely traditional, but I can work it in. As long as we add a lot of white it could be acceptable," she said, looking up toward the corner of the room while she envisioned the centerpieces.

"Actually, I didn't mean we needed red roses. What I meant was, the _concept_ of the rose." Emily and Lorelai look flummoxed. "When I went to the florist, there were a lot of bouquets, fancy elaborate things. Many of them were really something. But for us, the single rose and the message behind it were perfect. It's simple, and really it was the most beautiful flower I could have found for Lorelai. You helped me with that. And I hope you can help us have a wedding that gives us the same feeling."

Lorelai looked at him tenderly, wondering how on earth he was able to articulate the exact idea for the wedding that she had in mind, even though they really had only discussed the guest list and the plan to stay as uninvolved in the process as possible.

Emily had a difficult time keeping her smile from illuminating the room when she said, "So, understated, streamlined, and classic. Is that what you're saying?"

"Exactly, and you're the perfect person to get us there," Luke said.

"Oh, and Mom, Luke has an idea for the entrée as well." Lorelai looked at her mother. She loved watching her squirm, if only for a moment, at the very thought of Luke's suggestion.

Emily thought that it had all been too good to be true, so she asked through a clenched smile, "What's your dinner suggestion, Luke?" Visions of cheeseburgers, french fries, and iceberg lettuce salads flashed across her mind. She was relieved that at least Lorelai wasn't making a suggestion. Then she'd have to contend with gummy bear appetizers and tater tot side dishes, with a lovely drizzle of ketchup sauce.

"Lorelai and I talked about this, and you don't have to of course… I don't even know if they're in season, of if they even have a season. But we like the idea of lobster."

"You mean a lobster bisque?" she asked tentatively, not allowing herself to get seduced by a seafood fantasy if he were just talking about soup.

"No, you know, lobster tails, or the whole darn thing. As an entrée. Can you work that in?" he asked.

"Lobster?" She looked over at Richard, who kept his face amazingly blank throughout the entire exchange, then at Lorelai who was still gazing at Luke. Emily's mouth curved upwards. "Yes, I think I can find a way to work lobster into the menu." She had to pinch herself to see if she were dreaming.

Now that Emily's mood was at its highest, Lorelai asked, "So, Mom, I don't suppose you can count today as credit for Friday night dinner, and we'll just see you next week?" Emily rolled her eyes dramatically and Lorelai knew she had just been grasping at straws. Luke elbowed her, and Lorelai whispered, "It was worth a shot."

"Come to think of it, you need to get here an hour early on Friday night. We have to get the girls fitted for dresses and you for a tux, Luke. By then, we'll have a date, and a location. Don't forget to bring your gown. We'll see if we need to alter it, and for god's sake, don't let Luke see it again." Emily said, as she picked up her fork to savor a bite of the best lunch she'd had in years.

Luke thought that the sound he heard in his head just might be that of a whole new can of worms being opened.

~*~*~


	11. Chapter11Meet Sasquatch and Yeti Gilmore

**Fight for Us  
Chapter 11 – Meet Sasquatch and Yeti Gilmore**

**~*~*~**

Thank you so much **Jewels12**, my Beta, you have helped so much, and in so many ways, besides making my chapters presentable. **Spooly**, you rock!

And to the **readers** who are reading still, after all these chapters, thank you so much! I didn't intend for this story to continue for this long, but it has and it still does. Again, thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it.

~*~*~

"Whoa," April gasped, clearly impressed by the size and grandeur of the Gilmore Estate. Sensing the tension in Luke and Lorelai's demeanor, she spoke in hushed amazement as the trio stared at the estate from the safety of Lorelai's Jeep.

"Is this all one house?" she asked, her mouth agape.

"Yep," Luke and Lorelai replied in unison, their heads nodding in sync. Lorelai had forgotten how impressive the house looked to other people. Most adults who visited took the splendor in stride, or hid their impression behind a facade of nonchalance. But April was unabashedly impressed and was never one to waste her brain cells on playing it cool. It was refreshing and insightful to hear her candid comments about the house that Lorelai grew up in, but would never call home.

"Man, I'd hate to see the size of their carbon footprint," April marveled.

"We don't call them Sasquatch and Yeti Gilmore for nothing. Emily especially loves the moniker. Feel free to address them as such," Lorelai baited.

Luke overrode her, using his most convincing fatherly voice, "You'll call them Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore, unless they invite you to call them by their first names, just like we discussed. And remember, if they ask you any uncomfortable questions, you can buy yourself some time by saying ... "

"None of your stinking bees wax!" Lorelai interjected.

"... 'Why do you ask?'" Luke finished, undeterred. He cast a sideways glare at Lorelai.

April repeated, "Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore, and 'why do you ask?' Okay, I've got it."

After several seconds of silence, April asked, "Did you grow up in this _whole_ house?"

"Yep, the entire house was mine to roam, except, of course, the places that were off limits. Then I just snuck in and hunkered down, not roaming much at all."

They all took a deep breath. "Well, shall we?" Luke asked with a hint of apprehension, killing the engine and handing Lorelai the keys.

"We shall," Lorelai said, trying to suppress a tremor of excitement. Lorelai had been looking forward to this dinner all day. For the first time in a long time she was actually excited about visiting her parents because she knew that by then, her mother would have a time and a place for their wedding nailed down, and she and Luke would once again be officially engaged.

Lorelai extricated her gown from the back seat, as April kept the zippered bag off the ground. While the ladies struggled with it, Luke stood by uncharacteristically idle. Even though he never considered himself superstitious, he averted his eyes, not wanting to chance even glancing at the opaque garment bag, for fear that he might cause some unforeseen misfortune.

The trio passed Rory's car amid a couple of unfamiliar ones while making their way to the door, bridal paraphernalia occupying every hand. The maid du jour opened the ornately carved double doors and showed them in. April mouthed the words, "Oh, my God!" at her first glimpse of the interior.

Her large and curious eyes scanned the cavernous foyer and followed a disembodied voice up the grand staircase. The dramatic and drawn out words, "... and then she said, 'Well, Cecil, if you hadn't found it necessary to employ a cast of thousands, this gin joint wouldn't be nearly so crowded,'" floated down. It was the unmistakable namedropping of Celine, Emily's most trusted, if not flamboyant, fashion advisor.

"Mrs. Gilmore asked that you meet her upstairs," the maid said dutifully, while relieving Lorelai of the gown, then shuffling up the staircase.

Richard and his imposing stature made an entrance. He greeted Luke and Lorelai then he focused on April. "And this must be April," he said warmly.

"Dad, this is April Nardini, Luke's daughter."

"April, this is my father, Richard Gilmore," Lorelai continued with her formal introduction.

April extended her hand and gave him a firm handshake, "Hello, Mr. Gilmore," she said, looking him directly in the eye, in spite of her uneasiness.

"Well, hello to you, too. You'll find Emily and Rory upstairs doing whatever it is that women do before a joyous occasion. We'll all meet before dinnertime. Until then, the men are in the den. April, it was my pleasure." He nodded at her curtly then whisked Luke away. While the ladies climbed the stairs, they overheard him saying, "Well, isn't she a delight?"

Upon entering the den, Luke was stunned to see a tailor kneeling in front of an alarmed looking Jess. His arms were outstretched, parallel to the ground, while the balding man was measuring his inseam. Richard didn't introduce the man; he merely touted his credentials. "Giuseppe is from Milan. He made nothing but the finest suits there, and we're lucky to have him here to tailor our own custom tuxedoes. While he's busy with the measuring, I'll get you a drink; Jess and I have ours already. Luke, Scotch?"

"Scotch will be fine, thank you," Luke accepted.

Jess mouthed the word 'scotch' with a quirked eyebrow. Luke shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence.

"Hey," Luke said to Jess, a slight question in his greeting. He was happy to see his nephew, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been worried about his attitude. He noticed Jess's soft drink and exhaled in silent approval. The cola hinted to him that his nephew would be on his best behavior. Luke was relieved, though not surprised. Jess had done a lot of growing up on his own in the past year.

"Hey," Jess replied, his face poised in a 'you-owe-me-big-time-for-this' half-smirk.

"Emily?" Luke asked, knowing the answer, but unable to figure out how she was able to get a hold of his surly nephew.

"Uh, yeah," Jess said, using all of his willpower not to add the word 'obviously' to the end of his utterance. "And congratulations," he said sincerely, looking Luke directly in the eye.

"Thanks." Luke nodded. "So, I guess you accept my request to be the best man?"

"There's no turning back now. Giuseppe and I have really bonded," Jess quipped, referring to the stocky, though impeccably dressed man with a white rose in his lapel. He was now measuring and re-measuring each of Jess's limbs, then furiously scribbling on a pad of graph paper. Luke stifled a snort and Jess said, "You're next, Uncle Luke. And when he asks, 'How's it hangin'?', he really means 'How's it hangin?'"

Luke swallowed nervously then asked, "Richard, could you make that a double, please?"

~*~*~

Emily sauntered to the top of the landing, removing an ornate canary yellow hat that had rested jauntily on her head. "Come on. We haven't much time!" she said. Emily's eyes, expertly trained at covert observation, scanned April from head to toe. The only one aware of her stealthy scrutiny was Lorelai, since she herself was usually the object mounted on a slide under the microscope.

Emily recognized April's dress as one of Rory's old ones and sniffed at the distaste of the hand-me-down. But, she had to admit that it didn't look bad. In fact, April wore it rather well. Emily took in the girl's lean silhouette, impressed with her sinewy figure and decided that she must have inherited her father's athletic grace.

"Hello, Natalie!" Miss Celine called, looking up from a gold lame` dress that she held in front of Rory, before dismissing it and holding up another. "We're just looking over some gowns with Audrey here." Rory and April smiled and waved at each other uncertainly.

"Audrey?" April whispered to Lorelai as they approached.

"Hepburn. She associates everyone with movies stars," Lorelai whispered back.

"Hello, Celine," Lorelai said through a polite smile. "You haven't changed a bit."

"It's the avocado masks. Victoria Principal swears they're her fountain of youth," Celine crooned.

"Well, it could be that. It could also be that plastic surgeon husband of hers," Lorelai added.

"Now, now, a true lady never snips and tells," Celine said with a dramatic wink, then focused on April.

"Oh, Mom, Celine, this is April Nardini, Luke's daughter," Lorelai presented her proudly. She pretended not to notice her mother visibly cringe at April's ethnic surname. "April, this is my mother, Emily Gilmore, and this is Celine."

"It's very nice to meet you both, Mrs. Gilmore, Miss Celine," April said graciously.

"It's nice to finally meet you, too," Emily countered. Lorelai knew that the word 'finally' was directed pointedly at her. As hard as she tried to justify it, she knew her mother was right. That admission earned her a pounding ache right behind her eyes.

"Oh, dear, I'm so glad you aren't chubby!" Celine trilled. "Do you know how difficult it is to find the perfect summer bride's maid gown if you have to cover back fat?" April blinked at Celine, not knowing how to answer. "Never mind that, she's positively stunning. Do you see who I see, Emily?" Celine asked, while circling April to size her up from every angle.

"No," Emily answered flatly.

"Why, it's Anne Hathaway," Celine bellowed. April stood self-consciously, watching Celine watch her.

"Oh, yeah." Lorelai smiled.

"I don't know who that is," Emily sniffed.

"Mom, you know the girl from the _Princess Diaries_?" Lorelai added helpfully.

"Yeah, she's an ordinary girl who finds out that she's really a princess," Rory chimed in.

Emily shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. "I still don't know."

"Emily, you know who that would make you, don't you?" Celine asked, her inspection undeterred. "As her grandmother, you would be Julie Andrews."

"Julie Andrews?" Emily's face lit up. "Are you referring to that delightful little Disney film and the girl with the glasses?" she asked, striking a posture that was even more regal than usual.

"Yes!" they all chorused.

"Well, I suppose I can see it now," Emily admitted. She examined April's features for the first time. Suddenly she had visions of plucking her tangled eyebrows, taming her frizzy nest of hair, and tossing the heavy rimmed glasses to reveal the beauty hidden beneath the distractions. She had perfect olive skin and long lush eyelashes. _No lasik eye buchery for those soft brown eyes,_ Emily thought, suddenly feeling protective. If Emily had any say so, April would wear contacts at her cotillion.

"Well, let's take a look at Lorelai's gown and see where to begin," Celine said, clapping her hands for the ladies to gather around the garment that hung in the center of the room, hidden behind its protective sheath. She unzipped the bag and peeled it off the gown. They were surrounded by silence for a few seconds, as they gazed at the soft pastel satin in front of them. "You're right, it is perfection," Celine breathed.

"Wow!" April said.

"Oh, it's divine," Emily said, blinking rapidly, picturing her daughter in the vision before them.

Lorelai's eyes instantly became shiny. When she first bought it, she had tried it on every day. But after she lost her deposits she believed that her wedding day would never happen. She left it hidden in the back of her closet, behind her winter coats and boxes of Rory's old school projects, unable to bear looking at even the bag that held it.

"Out of those clothes and into this splendid gown, immediately," Celine snapped without giving Lorelai enough time to protest. Rory held her mother's clothing as she shed her blouse and skirt. April and Celine pulled the dress off the hanger and slid it over Lorelai's head before Emily went to work fastening the buttons. Rory set the clothes distractedly on a chair, and placed the wedding slippers on the floor in front of the gown. Celine, with practiced precision, removed the veil that hung inside the bag, shook it out, and placed in on Lorelai's head before spreading the tulle evenly over her shoulders.

Lorelai walked over to the three-way mirror and gazed at her reflection. The other four stood back and admired the intricate details of the sleeveless, blush silk gown.

"How much of it did Luke see?" Celine asked, before daring to proceed.

Lorelai swallowed nervously, reluctant to admit the truth, "All of it."

"Were you wearing it?"

Loreali nodded, knowing that she was probably going to have to give up the perfect dress. Her hands trembled as she smoothed them over the bodice admiring the delicate fabric.

"Were you wearing the veil?" Celine asked.

Again, Lorelai nodded her head, slightly ashamed.

Emily was having none of it. "When did he see it?" she asked.

"Mom, I was just trying it on again and he…"

"Did he see it before or after you postponed the wedding?" Emily asked.

"Before," Lorelai said, growing more disheartened by the moment.

Emily declared, "Oh, thank God!"

"What?" Lorelai asked.

"Well, you two have already had your bad luck, haven't you? Postponed the wedding, took off the ring, set another date. But that bad luck was for the June 3rd wedding, not for the June 24th wedding," Emily said with a twinkle in her eye.

"June 24th?" Lorelai whispered, savoring the sound of the new date.

Fearing that her daughter might not be happy with the new date, Emily nodded and replied softly, "I know you probably had your heart set on June 3rd, and really, I tried. But it just wasn't possible this late. At least you'll still get to be a June bride, and you get to keep the dress," she said, looking at Lorelai with uncertain, expectant eyes.

"No, June 24th is perfect, really. Thank you, Mom," Lorelai said, through quivering lips.

"No way! June 24th!" April piped up, animated and excited. "June 24th is Midsummer's Day. That is so cool!"

"What's Midsummer's Day?" Lorelai asked.

"It's a Pagan holiday, traditionally celebrated for fertility and hedonism," she explained.

"Sounds like the perfect wedding night for us!" Lorelai decreed.

"Actually the coolest thing about Midsummer's Day is that it takes place three days after the summer solstice, which is really a misnomer, since it isn't summer in the Southern Hemisphere. So, truly it should be called the _June_ Solstice. December 25th is the pagan holiday, Pre-Christian, of course, to mark Midwinter's Day," April explained exuberantly, dropping her timidity like a lead balloon.

Emily, Celine, and Rory stared at April as she talked animatedly about the date. She had morphed from Mia Thermopolis into Dougie Houser right before their eyes.

"What's so cool about the Summer, or uh, June Solstice?" Lorelai asked.

"What's so cool is that it's an astronomical event – and aren't all astronomical events cool? - where each year, when the tilt of the Earth's axis is most inclined toward the Sun, it causes the Sun's apparent position in the sky to reach its northernmost extreme." She glanced around and noticed that she was losing them. "Or, in layman's terms, it's the longest day of the year."

"Will it actually _be_ the longest day, or will it just _seem_ that way?" Lorelai joked. Emily rolled her eyes in exasperation at her daughter. Then on a more serious note, Lorelai asked them, "So you think Midsummer's Day is a good day for a wedding?"

"It's the perfect day for a wedding, Mom," Rory reassured her.

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully, before a huge smile broke out on her face. "I need to tell Luke." She lifted the hem of her gown off the floor and started to turn away from the mirror.

Emily put a reassuring hand on Lorelai's shoulder. "You'll tell him at dinner. Just enjoy the dress for the moment," she said, adjusting the delicate flowers that covered the front of the dress, her comforting hand allowing Lorelai to take a few deep breaths. Converting back to her productive mode, Emily said, "We might want to rethink the veil. Change the look, so he thinks it's a whole new ensemble. Men are easily fooled."

"They are indeed. That is why she'll wear these to enhance her bustline," Celine chimed in, holding two silicone pushup pads shaped like chicken cutlets. "There's nothing like an ample cleavage to distract a man from your clothes."

"Amen, sister," Loreali answered.

"I have some for Audrey, too. But none for you," Celine pointed at April, "You don't need them. You may have Anne's face and Anne's legs, but your bustline is strictly Sofia's," Celine sang.

~*~*~


	12. Chapter 12 Don'tItMakeMyBlue Eyes Green?

**Fight for Us**

**Ch. 12 – Don't it Make My Blue Eyes Green?**

**~*~*~**

**A/N: Jewels12**! Thank you so much for being my Beta! You've been there for so many chapters now, I've run out of things to say about how awesome you are. I'm so glad you're there to make up new words with. **Spooly**, your beta skills are the opposite of peccible!

~*~*~

**A/N:** Parts of this episode are out of order, but hey, this is fiction and I wanted April to be in on the fun.

**~*~*~**

Emily and Lorelai descended the staircase with Rory and April following them. They entered the quiet parlor to find Richard, Luke, and Jess with drinks in their hands, pondering a cloth covered item the size of a microwave oven, that was sitting on the coffee table.

"Well, here they are. I trust that your fittings went well," Richard said, turning to smile at them.

"Everything went swimmingly," Emily said with a tone that meant there would be no more questions regarding the bridal wardrobe.

"I have martinis shaken, already," Richard said, taking full control of his beverage cart and handing his daughter a cocktail. "Here you go, Lorelai."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're quite welcome."

"Hi, Jess," Lorelai said.

"Hello," Jess answered. "Congr…best wishes."

"Thanks." She beamed.

"What's this?" Lorelai asked while sitting down next to Luke. She figured that it probably wasn't an ice sculpture of 'Venus on the Half Shell' since it was too small and she didn't see any signs of condensation. She feared that her mother may have actually taken her up on the dancing mushrooms and had located one, only to unveil it tonight.

While she reached out an eager hand to lift the satin cover, Richard scolded her, "Don't touch that!"

"He slapped my hand earlier," Jess said, raising his eyebrows in warning.

"It is top secret," Emily gloated.

Lorelai feigned alarm. "Oh, my god. It's the weapons of mass destruction. Quick, get the president on the phone."

"Lorelai!" Richard admonished.

She continued, "If he's not in the oval office, try the ice-cream room."

"Just tell them what it is, Richard," Emily said in defeat.

"Well, it looks like we're going to receive a tidy little settlement from the charlatan that botched your mother's eye surgery," Richard explained, holding his hands together like a teepee with only his finger tips touching.

Emily smiled and nodded as she settled into her place by his side. "A very tidy settlement."

"And we've decided to add it to the money we're donating to Yale," Richard elaborated, as he and his wife unraveled the story together, finishing each other's thoughts.

"Thank God. Finally a hot meal for the lacrosse team," Lorelai interjected.

"We're adding it to the money we're donating in Rory's name," Emily continued, undeterred by Lorelai's attempt at levity.

"Oh, goody. They didn't forget." Rory smiled demurely, pleased with the generous donation that she imagined might help a deserving, but less privileged student, pay for his tuition or some other college necessities.

Emily held out her arms and gestured to the table. "And with that extra money, we can now afford what is on the table right in front of you. Richard, do the honors."

"All right." He beamed. "Miss Rory Gilmore, may I present... your building," Richard bellowed proudly as he lifted the cover with a flourish to reveal a classically styled building, complete with columns, and topped by a rotunda.

Rory looked at the model, her eyes the size of dinner plates. "What?"

"Your science building," Emily preened.

Lorelai laughed, making no attempt to stifle it. Jess smirked audibly, and Rory hid her head in her hands.

"That's really special, Rory. Congratulations. Richard and Emily, you two are very generous," Luke said sincerely.

April sprung to life and bounced on the balls of her feet with her hands clasped near her chest. "Oh my god! No way! An entire building in your name! You have the coolest grandparents on the entire planet! No! In the entire solar system!

"Hear that, Richard? We're cool!" Emily said, smiling up at her husband.

"The coolest!" he corrected her, tugging on his bow tie proudly. "On the Q.T., a friend of mine, who knows the architect, snagged the model for me. It's a beaut, isn't it? Built perfectly to scale."

"Wow. That's, uh, really something," Luke understated, staring at the prototype.

"Very sleek," Emily said. "And there's plenty of wall space inside for a portrait."

"Of who?" Rory gasped.

"Of you," her grandmother answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a young journalism major to have her portrait hanging on the wall of an Ivy League science building.

Richard continued to extol the virtues of the mock up, "And look right here. My friend attached a placard to the front of the building."

Lorelai could hardly contain her mockery as she read, "The Rory Gilmore Astronomy Building." April let out a squeal before she remembered where she was, and covered her mouth with both hands.

"Um, Grandpa…" Rory stammered.

Emily just went right on talking, "They're going to start construction this summer, so it should be up and running by Christmas.

Rory looked a little queasy as she asked, "Is this the actual lettering? I mean, is this to scale?"

"What's the scale? You think they used 1:75?" Jess asked. Richard shrugged his shoulders.

Luke answered off-the-cuff, "They usually use 1:75 for a commercial building of this size."

Lorelai said, "Yeah, cause if this is to scale, the sign would be like…"

"About 110 feet long," Luke estimated.

Jess backed him up, "Yep, one twelve and a half."

"About a thirty-three meters," April agreed, nodding heartily.

Lorelai stopped teasing for a moment as she, her parents, and Rory all stared at their company. "What, am I marrying into a family of Rainmen?"

"Simple multiplication," Luke said, tipping his chin.

"The difference of squares." Jess shrugged.

April added, "Yeah, easy conversion from standard to metrics."

"This can't be happening. We're going to be a mixed marriage. A family of 'words people' cannot marry into a family of 'numbers people,'" Lorelai said, feigning panic. Luke smiled at her lovingly as he held her hand and looked at the crazy woman that soon would be his wife. He kissed the back of her hand, and she changed her tone. "Well, maybe this is a case of 'opposites attract.'"

"You think?" he whispered to her, while draping an arm around her shoulders.

"I think," she cooed back, nuzzling into his side.

"Will have a huge telescope in it? I bet it will, right here in the dome," April said, kneeling near the table and attempting to peer into the windows. "People bat the word astronomical around when what they really mean is huge. But this, this _is_ astronomical!"

"We're going to try to get them to add another floor so that it's taller than everything around it," Emily said.

"Make it stand out a bit more," Richard finished for her.

"More than this?" Rory asked worriedly.

"Relax, Rory. Remember when you wanted a personalized license plate?" Lorelai teased. "So much better."

Rory groaned in humiliation, wondering when it would end.

But Lorelai hadn't dished out enough. "I love the portrait idea. Oh, mom, remember the swan? You never got the portrait of Rory with the swan. Such a shame. Maybe you can commission another painting, one with the swan."

"Who's not helping?" Rory shot a horrified glare at her mother.

"I hate swans," Jess grumbled.

Luke choked back a laugh. "I hear they really pack a punch."

"So, like I said, they're breaking ground soon. The ceremony is coming up two weeks from Friday. We can all meet there at 3:00, then come over here for dinner," Emily laid out her plan. "And of course, Jess, if you're in town, you are more than welcome."

"Thank you," Jess said, shooting a glance in Rory's direction. "I'll check my calendar."

"Luke, can I expect you and April here, too?" Emily asked.

Luke hesitated and looked over at Lorelai for a hint as to how he should react. She shrugged her shoulders to let him know that it was his call.

"Can we go, Dad?" April pleaded.

Emily answered before he could get a word out, "Of course you can go. The whole family will be there. Christopher and Gigi will be there, too."

Luke's head snapped up and he immediately began working his jaw. "I'm not sure. I'll need to talk to your mother and find out if she'll be back by then," he said steadily to April, using every ounce of willpower to modulate his voice.

"If she says yes, then we can go, right? I've never been to Yale. My science teacher says they have the best molecular biology department in the world."

Richard's ears perked up at her interest in his _alma mater_. "You're considering Yale?" he asked, looking a full three inches taller.

"Well, not really considering anything. I'm not even in high school yet. But I know I want to study in the field of biology. Probably evolutionary biology, or genetics."

"Very good. Very good." Richard nodded and the others could tell that the recruiting wheels in his head were spinning. "Well, it's never too early to start, my dear. Rory and I would be more than happy to give you the complete insiders' tour. Wouldn't we, Rory?"

Rory nodded. "Uh, sure."

Lorelai studied Luke. Suddenly his eyes had grown dark and she could hear his breathing rate increase. His nostrils flared slightly before she squeezed his hand, letting him know that she understood his distress. He looked over at her sharply and she felt an involuntary shiver run through her spine. She knew that eventually Christopher's name would come up, but she really didn't want it to ruin the momentum that their relationship had gained in the past couple of weeks.

"So, before the ground breaking, we'll show you all of Yale's historic landmarks and the art gallery, the press room where Rory works, and even the bench where I proposed to Emily."

"That would be awesome. Dad, can I?"

"I'm not sure if I can get away from the diner," he said, his voice strained. April's expression became a bit deflated as she solemnly stroked the eaves of the prototype's roof.

"But it would be so cool. And I've never met Gigi."

"April, I said I don't know!" Luke barked at her. After an awkward silence, April backed away from the astronomy prototype, clearly hurt and confused. She blinked furiously as she asked for directions to the bathroom. Lorelai placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and cast a backward glance at Luke as she walked with April.

"Aw, jeez. I think I need to, uh…" Luke gestured to April and Lorelai before excusing himself.

Richard suddenly remembered that he needed to make a phone call, and Emily busied herself harassing the maid about the virtue of half, versus full-length, tapered candles, leaving Rory and Jess alone.

"What was that all about?" Jess asked.

"My dad."

"Oh, right." He nodded. They both had less-than-stellar fathers. "So, Luke snapped at April? Huh, I thought he only yelled at me."

"I think you both should consider yourselves lucky. He never felt comfortable enough to even scoff at me."

"You're different, Rory."

"You mean, 'ride the short bus' different?"

"No, I mean 'you never did anything wrong, like steal an innocent garden gnome to warrant being snapped at' different."

"Nah, I just stole a yacht and dropped out of Yale."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." His smile started out crooked, then grew into a full grin that reached his eyes.

"I bet you did," she huffed. "But truly, April didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah, but it's okay to snap at family, because no matter what, they always snap back."

She swallowed slowly and nodded.

"So, where's Hogan?" he asked.

"Logan."

"Oh, sorry, my mistake. Where's Logan?" He smirked.

"He's getting ready for a trip to London. Actually, for a _move_ to London." She raised her chin defiantly, expecting Jess to take a shot at Logan for leaving her.

"What's in London?"

"Business."

"You don't look too happy about it."

"I'm not, but I'll be okay," she said bravely.

"When is he leaving?"

"Sunday."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I guess. I'm not sure what to say."

"That's okay. Your insincere gesture was the polite thing to say." Rory smiled weakly, relieved that his shot never came. "There really isn't anything to say. It is what it is." She shrugged and took a sip of her wine.

"I think I can make it back to New Haven to see the groundbreaking. That is, if you want me to be there," Jess said.

"You would come back just for that?"

"You came to the Truncheon Publishing extravaganza, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but that's something _you_ accomplished."

"This is important Rory. It really is. A lot of people will learn in that building. And it isn't often that I actually know the person whose swanny portrait will grace the halls of the very building that bears a sign that can actually be read from the space shuttle _Discovery_." He winked.

"Ugh!" She cried, burying her face in her hands.

~*~*~

"Thanks for letting me drive with you. I think Luke needs a little time with April to smooth things over. Okay, I'm all buckled up, snug as a bug in a . . . whoa," Lorelai said as Rory pressed her foot to the gas. "This thing is like a wind up toy. It just goes, doesn't it? No time for combustion, no warning at all." She looked over at Rory who was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were beginning to lose color.

"What's wrong?" Lorelai asked, her brow creased with concern.

"Nothing."

"You're just doing your Mario Andretti impersonation? It's impeccable, by the way. Here's a thought, if something is the opposite of impeccable, does that make it peccable? Is that even a word? Peccable?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe we should ask April."

"You're the wordy one. If I need any questions about the Human Genome Project, then I'll ask April."

"Right."

"Grandma was in rare form, huh? She was in hog heaven helping you girls pick dresses."

"She sure was."

"So, why the lead foot?"

"I just needed to get out of there and away from her."

"Actually, she was pretty good tonight. She only got about four digs in and mentioned my huge, bulbous head only once, although she did allude to it about seventeen times. But, I'd say that Emily was on her best behavior. I'll need her to plan all my weddings," Lorelai joked.

"I'm not talking about Grandma," Rory said, stepping on the breaks too quickly and causing Lorelai's body to lurch forward.

"I know Celine can be a boorish name dropper, but she's pretty entertaining, if you ask me."

"Not Celine, either."

"Then who?"

"April, you know, the brilliant new Eli."

"What? April was delightful."

"Et tu, Brute?"

Lorelai stared at her daughter incredulously, "Rory? What's going on? Did something happen? I mean, besides the blatant humiliation of the million foot high Rory Building sign."

"No, nothing happened. Well, yes, everything happened. _She_ showed up."

"Rory?"

"She's ruining everything, that's all."

"I think you need to explain your thought process on this one, because I'm not following you." Lorelai said, her eyes narrowing.

"You were going to get married on June third, then you postponed it because of her. Now you'll have a tiny little wedding, and Logan will be in London by then, so he can't even be there. And I'll have to face Jess alone. Again. Then there's the whole Yale thing. I'm the granddaughter. I get to go to Yale. Grandma and Grandpa are having that stupid, embarrassing building built in _my_ name, but s_he's_ the one who loves science. They probably think it should be in her name now and not mine. Everyone knows I don't give a rat's patootie about astronomy. And there she is talking intelligently about the Sun's apparent position in the sky and stellar parallax."

"Are you serious?"

"Sadly, yes. And the worst thing is, I know I'm being petty and I have no idea why I'm allowing myself down this dark path."

"Perhaps I can help you shed some light on the subject. First, April's mere existence did not cause us to have a smaller wedding. The wedding postponement was _my_ issue with Luke and I'm not going to let you, or anyone else pin it on April, ever. So just get that out of your head. Second, your boyfriend cannot make it and I'm sorry, but I don't know what that has to do with Jess. And to tell you the truth, I don't really want to know. Third, yes, Grandma and Grandpa can see that April has a world of potential. That's a good thing, a really good thing. Maybe she'll go to Yale, maybe she won't, but that's up to her. If that would make her happy and well-rounded, then more power to her. And fourth, if you're going to use a phrase to emphasize your point, use it correctly. Please, say 'rat's ass'. Rat's patootie is so weak, it takes the punch right out of your argument."

"Mom!" Rory whined.

"Rory, come on. What is this really about?"

"Does she have to look like Anne Hathaway with Sofia Loren's boobs? She makes Grandma the Queen of Genovia. Have you _seen_ Hathaway's newest movie? She makes Audrey Hepburn look like the girl next door," Rory said, her eyes brimming with tears.

"All right, I know it's not because she's brilliant and has bigger boobs than you do, because the same can be said of Paris, and that never made you irrationally jealous of her. It's not really Yale, or the astronomy building, is it?

"I don't know what it is. It's just, God! Why do I have to be this way?"

"What is going on?"

"The words coming out of my mouth right now sound so stupid that I hate myself for saying them." She blinked and tears streamed down her face.

"Pull over so we can talk. Right here," Lorelai said, gesturing to the curb. Rory pulled over, put it in park, and killed the engine. "You know that your grandparents love you to no end. Them liking April, and eventually growing to love her would be wonderful for the whole family. But you know in your heart that she will never take your place. They will always love you, deeply and ridiculously, so much that sometimes you might want to scream so loudly that your eardru…"

"Mom!"

"Oh, sorry. But you get the picture. They will never stop loving you. You have to know that."

"I do know that. And they won't replace me. I know that, too," she said, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve.

"So why the breakdown?"

"I know I'll always be their granddaughter. But..."

"But what? There are no buts."

"But, what about Luke?"

Lorelai faced her daughter, wearing a quizzical expression. "What _about_ Luke?"

"He's already replaced me with her. He yelled at her, like a real father does. This sounds so stupid, but he has never once raised his voice to me. It just hit me, you know. I don't have to be his fake daughter anymore. He has a real one now. One he can actually be his gruff, grumpy self with. He was there all that time when Dad wasn't, still isn't. And now, he doesn't need me because he has her. But, I still need him. He's Luke. Our Luke," she said, a soft sob caused her ribs to shudder.

"Rory, Honey, love isn't one of those finite things that when you give it, you have less of it. Luke's not like that; you know how much he loves you."

"I know, but I was going to finally get to have him as a real dad, and now she has him instead. I can see how he looks at her. He adores her, he's proud of her. And it just all sucks. I suck. I hate myself for thinking this way."

"I'd be lying if I said that that he doesn't love her, or that he wasn't proud of her. But, I can tell you that I know how you feel, and I completely understand. It took Luke and me a while to get back to where we were before he found out what Anna had done to him. But, I know he loves you." Lorelai's heart went out to her daughter as she watched her sob over her perceived loss of a father figure.

"What am I supposed to do?" Rory wailed.

"Look at the positive side, I guess."

"Positive?"

"You had grandpa. He's been a great father figure to you, especially in the last several years. And now you have a sister. I have always wanted a sister. Mostly to deflect some scrutiny away from me, but also so I'd have someone who could be there for me and with me. Maybe that's why we turned out to be such good friends, and not just the typical mother-daughter pair. April will be your sister; your kids will have cousins. And those cousins will have aunts and uncles. It's a good thing, Rory. I know it's hard now, but think of April and what she must be going through. Luke is her father, and up until now she missed out on that her whole life. Suddenly, she's thrust into his life, and now ours. She needs some sisterly compassion. I know you have it in you to get past this and eventually be there for her. And really, I need you there for me, too. So does Luke."

"I'm not sure anyone needs me now," she said, her voice cracking.

"I know it seems like I should have all the answers," Lorelai said, trying to soothe Rory, "but I don't. I will tell you this, though; it's something that Luke said to me. I don't think that he'd mind me sharing it with you."

Rory wiped her eyes again, turned toward Lorelai, and said, "Okay, tell me."

Lorelai's voice was calm and reassuring. "Luke said that he always wished that you were his daughter. He wanted to be a part of our family for years. Not just because he was into me, but also because he wanted to scare away your monsters, and your boyfriends. When you dropped out of Yale, he wanted to go and grab you by the ear and yank you back in, just like any father would have done, but I stopped him. I thought I knew what was best."

"Really? I didn't even know he had an opinion," Rory sniffed.

"Oh, he had all kinds of opinions about it. He loves you, kid. There's no escaping it, and no long lost daughter will ever take away the fatherly affection that he has for you. You're stuck with him."

"You think?"

"No. I know," she said, looking Rory directly in the eye before hugging her tightly.

~*~*~

TBC


	13. Chapter 13 Hair of his Chinny ChinChin

**Fight for Us**

**Chapter 13 – The Hair of His Chinny-Chin-Chin**

~*~*~

A/N:Thank you so much **Jewels12** for, once again, doing a fabulous job betaing my chapter. You are so awesome, and I am so thankful!

~*~*~

Lorelai woke frequently throughout the night; nevertheless, it was a luxurious sleep. Each time she stirred, she sensed him, first by smelling traces of his rich, masculine aroma. Then she'd hear him, the soft throaty snores, rhythmically soothing and comforting to her. Once she was awake enough to know that he was really there, she'd reach an arm out to touch the soft hairs on his chest, or to pull herself next to his warm body. He'd hug her closely, or murmur quietly. Either way, he'd respond, and she'd snuggle in safely. Lorelai would fall asleep again, comforted by his presence, realizing just how long it had been since he had stayed all night.

~*~*~

"I brought you some tea," Lorelai said, handing him the cup, steaming with a trace of peppermint. He looked pleasantly surprised, and thanked her with a series of warm kisses.

"Mmm, I should bring you tea more often."

"I should spend the night more often," he responded, placing the cup next to the basin, and drawing Lorelai into his arms.

She clasped her hands lightly behind his neck, and toyed with the moist curls that sprung at the nape. "You can now."

"I know."

"Are you sad?"

He shrugged. "She isn't far. And when we get married, she can visit; we have room for her here."

"So you miss her already?" she persisted through a knowing smile, and stroked his cheek sympathetically.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It's harder than I thought it would be. My place seems so quiet without her."

"I know."

He knew she understood, but he couldn't bring himself to think about how much he missed April right now, he had to get moving, or he'd be late. So, he turned on the faucet, and dunked his washcloth several times before wringing it tightly.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Lorelai asked, sitting down on the toilet seat lid, while Luke held the warm washcloth on his face.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"So, you're sure? I can't help feeling a little responsible for bringing this on. I sort of talked you into embracing the whole idea," she sighed worriedly.

"Lorelai, it'll be okay. I've read the books; I've played a few rounds, and I've gone to the driving range several times. I'm probably not too much of an embarrassment to your father any longer. Stop worrying; it'll be fine," he said, dispensing shaving cream into the palm of his hand, and spreading it evenly over his stubble.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, watching him attentively. "I'm sorry you have to shave."

"I'd have to at some point anyway; it might as well be now," he said with a shrug, before he pulled the razor over his stubble, with firm, light strokes. He methodically shaved from his sideburns to his jaw line, with practiced precision. Something about watching him perform this ritual calmed her. He always did it in the same order. She knew that he'd do his neck next, pulling the skin taught as he went. Then he'd shave the area above his lip, and leave his chin for last, contorting his mouth to get the closest shave, effectively putting off the next shave as long as possible.

"How did you learn to shave?" she asked, feeling close to him in their cocoon of intimacy.

"Just watching my father, I guess. Only he used a badger-hair brush and a safety razor, which ironically, was very dangerous."

She bent her knees, and rested her feet on the toilet seat, hugging her legs close to her chest. "What's a safety razor?"

"It's the kind that twists open, like a butterfly, and you drop a double-sided razor into it."

"Oh, yeah. That _is_ scary," she said softly, watching him rinse his razor, and tap it along the edge of the basin. "I bet it would have been tough shaving your legs with something like that."

"I don't know about legs, but every morning my father had at least three wads of tissue, somewhere on his face to stop the bleeding."

"No wonder you hate to shave."

"That might have something to do with it," he agreed, lifting his chin, and checking his neck and face for any missed spots.

"I'm going to miss you today," she said dolefully.

He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. "I'll be home soon, don't worry."

She pondered his statement. "Luke, do feel like this is your home?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "It's beginning to feel like it is, yeah."

"So, when are you going to bring all your stuff over?"

"I don't really have that much stuff," he said offhandedly. "Besides, this house is already exactly how you want it. I don't want to clutter it up with all my junk. We can just keep the apartment above the diner, in case we have guests who'd like their privacy, like Jess. Or, in case I have an early delivery, and I need to be there. That way I won't have to wake you."

"So you want to keep your apartment as an _apartment_?" She put her feet down and sat straight, with her eyebrows drawn together. Flashbacks of Luke's unchanged apartment during his marriage to Nicole flooded her mind.

"What else am I going to do with it?" he asked, concentrating on dousing his washcloth with cold water.

"I don't know. I thought you'd make it into a bigger office, or a workout room, or rent it out, or _something_."

"Why don't we just leave it the way it is, and worry about it later. We're not going anywhere, and we have time to decide after the wedding." He rinsed his face with the cool washcloth to reveal his smooth, chiseled features.

"You have a lot of sentimental items over there. Don't you want to bring them here?"

"Most of the stuff you see is left over from when I sold my parents' house, years ago. I never knew what to do with it, and didn't want to throw it away, so I just used whatever furniture they had that would fit, and hung everything else on the walls. Some of it _is_ sentimental, but really, don't worry, I won't mess up your house with all my old crap."

"You wouldn't be messing up _our_ house," she reassured him, although she felt a bit disheartened.

He twisted the cap off his aftershave, drizzled some on his hands, rubbed them together briskly, and then patted it firmly on his face. "I know how you women are with decorating. I won't be offended. I'll just bring over my clothes, maybe keep a few changes for work over there. That way you won't have to make room for me."

"But I _want_ to make room for you," she said, standing in front of him to feel his newly shaved face with both hands.

"You do?" His expression softened.

"Of course I do. This is _our_ house. You poured your heart into it during the renovation, even more than I did."

"I wouldn't even know what to bring. I have no idea what would and wouldn't work here," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, and rubbing his cheek against hers. Even though she had just watched him shave, the smoothness of his cheek caught her off guard.

"Mmmm, smooth," she purred, caressing his face with hers.

"I thought you'd like that," he said, nuzzling her neck, breathing her in.

She closed her eyes, melting into him. "I do. So, what are the chances of me making you late for tee off time?"

He laughed as she hugged him closer.

"Just a tiny bit late?" She squeezed.

"You're killing me," he groaned in frustration. They both knew that this outing with Richard had to do with a lot more than just golf. But they lingered for a minute anyway, wishing that the intimacy could continue. "You know I have to get going."

"Yeah. Um, about your apartment, would it help if I took a look at your things to see?" she asked.

"You want to pick some things out to bring over?"

She nodded heartily.

"That would help a lot. You pack them, I'll lug them," he said with a kiss. "I'll ask Caesar to save the boxes from the deliveries today, and I'll meet you there after golf."

"So, I have permission to pack up anything that you have over there?" she asked eagerly.

He looked into her eyes. "Lorelai, what's mine is yours. Whatever you want to bring, be my guest."

"This is going to be so much fun!" she said, while hugging him tightly.

"I'm glad _you_ think so," he said with a chuckle.

~*~*~

Lorelai picked up the phone, soon after Luke left, and dialed a familiar number. "Sook? It's me."

"Hey, Lorelai, what's going on?" Sookie said, pinning the receiver against her shoulder as she sat folding and stacking towels, fresh from the dryer.

"Not much, what are you doing?"

"Well, I'd like to say I'm sitting around, eating bonbons. But really, just catching up on some laundry. It seems like the more I do, the more I do."

"Yeah, kind of like how you always find things in the last place that you look."

"Exactly!" Sookie said, through a deeply dimpled smile. "Why is that?"

"Well, that's because… oh, never mind. I'd hate to take away the mystique of it all for you."

Sookie giggled. "Thanks! You're always looking out for me."

"That's what best friends are for." Lorelai cleared her throat. "Speaking of best friends, Sookie, would you like to root and rummage through Luke's intimate, personal belongings with me?"

"Oh, sounds sneaky and intrusive," she giggled. "Count me in!"

"Great." Lorelai let out a sigh of relief. For some reason, she was nervous about going though Luke's things alone. "Meet me at Luke's at 10:00. We'll work up a hearty appetite snooping, then we'll eat."

"Snooping and eating! Sounds like music to my ears!"

~*~*~

"You crushed it!" Richard bellowed, his basso profundo resonating across the driving range at the 17th hole. They watched the dimpled ball fly across the fairway and land squarely on the green. Luke nodded in satisfaction, then picked up his tee, and stepped down firmly on the tiny divot.

"Well, even a blind pig finds a truffle once in a while," Luke replied, modestly.

"That was not luck, my boy. You've been practicing."

"I have," Luke admitted, slipping his driver into his bag. "Been hitting a few buckets."

"Well, it's certainly paying off" Richard said, with male admiration. "Lorelai mentioned that you were an athlete; that's quite apparent. You're already developing a nice swing. You're square at address. You have a great position at the top of your swing, and excellent club head speed. It's faster than mine, that's for certain. And, a nice high finish. I predict you're going to be a fine golfer some day, if you keep this up."

"Thank you, Richard," Luke said, relieved that his time spent at the public driving range had led him to the point where a simple round of golf left him feeling relaxed, instead of humiliated and out of place. "Maybe you can help me with my short game."

Richard chuckled as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. "I was going to save that for another time. While your huge swing will help you off the tee, it's the short game that determines who wins or loses at this sport."

Luke stepped beside Richard, and matched him stride for stride. "I have to admit, golf didn't seem like a sport to me at first. I always thought that something had to make you sweat, or raise your heart rate, to be considered a sport. But this… this is a lot tougher than it looks."

"That it is, that it is," Richard said contemplatively. "Speaking of something that's harder than it looks, you and Lorelai will be wed in just a few short weeks. What do you say if we forgo the clubhouse, and go to my place instead? I think it's about time we had a talk. Man to man."

Luke's Adam's apple dipped. He knew this talk was coming, and he figured it would be today. But he imagined it would take place at the club, not in the lion's own private den.

~*~*~

Lorelai entered the crowded diner, the accompanying door chimes inaudible above the chatter of the patrons, and the sizzle of the grill. She waved a cheerful greeting to Caesar through the kitchen window.

"Hey, Lorelai. Coffee?" Zack asked, already reaching for a cup, and filling it before she had a chance to answer. She sat down on the stool nearest the register, placing her purse on the counter next to her.

"Hi, Zack. Thanks," she said, inhaling deeply before taking a sip. It wasn't as good as Luke made, but it was darn close.

"Luke's not here, but you already knew that. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, I'm meeting Sookie. We'll have lunch a little later."

"No problemo. Just let me know if you need anything," he called over his shoulder as he picked up several plates that Caesar set on the ledge of the dumb waiter.

Lorelai fidgeted in her seat, worrying about Luke and her father, hoping that golf was going well, and that her father's badgering didn't send Luke running for the hills. She sensed someone approaching her, and figured it must be Sookie. When Lorelai turned to smile at her best friend, she realized that it wasn't Sookie. It was Miss Patty. She knew she'd have to face her sooner or later, so she willed the smile on her face to stay put as she said, "Hi, Patty."

"Well, hello little miss not-so-blushing bride. I hear best wishes are in order," Patty cooed, before hugging Lorelai warmly. Lorelai felt even guiltier for not inviting Patty, or any of the townies, to the wedding.

"Thanks, Patty," Lorelai said, biting her lip. "Hey, I'm sorry that we didn't invi…"

Patty held up her hands. "Honey, say no more. The main thing is to get you two hitched. I'd rather see a ring on your finger than anything else in the world, and I don't need to witness it to be satisfied. You just concentrate on getting there, and you'll be all right."

"Really?" Lorelai asked, tears of relief stinging her eyes.

"Sweetheart, the wedding would be fun, but it's the marriage that counts. I just want to see you and that hunk of yours legally wed."

Lorelai used a napkin to dab the corners of her eyes. "Thanks. I was so worried that I'd disappoint everyone."

"Nothing we won't get over." Patty smiled supportively. "Just tell me that you'll let us throw you a bachelorette party. It'll be fabulous. I'll make the punch."

Lorelai stared down into her coffee; Patty's intuition kicked in. "You just want to get married, don't you, Dear?"

Lorelai nodded, then confided in her older friend. "I'm so scared that I'm going to do something to mess it up. I'm afraid of even making the most minor decision, because making a decision causes me to think of the wedding. And thinking of the wedding, and it not happening, would be just too much to take." She blinked a few times, before resuming. "I even handed over the entire event to _my mother_. And if you knew anything about our relationship, you'd know that Hell has nearly frozen over." Patty nodded, and Lorelai continued to spill. "Some couples thrive at being engaged, they drag it on for months, years even. Us, not so much. I know everyone wants to participate, that's what Stars Hollow is all about, but..." Her words faded as she grew more emotional.

"You just leave the townies to me." Patty tapped Lorelai's hand. "But, I have to give them _something._ How about after the wedding?" she asked, her eyebrows raised hopefully.

"After the wedding is all yours," Lorelai agreed. She figured she'd tell Luke as soon as possible. And it probably wouldn't be possible until _after_ the ceremony.

"We'll give you a few days after the wedding to regain your strength," Patty said. "I've been married a few times. Trust me; you're going to need the recovery time."

"I hope so," Lorelai said slyly.

"If you don't, now _that_ would be disappointing." They both laughed in feminine camaraderie.

~*~*~

"Here you go." Richard handed Luke a cut lead crystal glass, filled with liquid amber, then sank down into the buttery soft leather of his tufted chair. Luke sat in a matching one, opposite the small pedestal table in Richard's study. Despite it being late morning, it was dark in the room. The carved mahogany paneling absorbed most of the light filtering in through the beveled windows, and from the lamps that adorned each horizontal surface of the generously proportioned room.

"Thank you," Luke said formally, tugging at the collar of his new golf shirt that Lorelai had picked out for him.

"This scotch is a twenty-year-old, single malt highland," Richard said authoritatively, swirling it in the slim shaft of light that slanted through the window behind him.

Luke swirled his too, watching the thick, sugary fluid stick to the sides of the glass. He really wasn't in the habit of drinking during the day, but at that moment, he was grateful for the calming elixir that he held before him. "So, it's made only from barley that comes from the mountains of Scotland," Luke said, nodding.

Richard caught on to Luke's new-found knowledge. "Which makes it more challenging to a distiller because…" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Luke to finish his sentence.

"Because a distiller can hide all kinds of imperfections in a blended scotch, but a single malt has to be perfect enough to stand on its own," Luke said, rising to the occasion.

Richard laughed. "Bravo. I appreciate your efforts," he said, looking directly at Luke. "However, I suppose you know that I didn't bring you here to discuss the scotch."

Luke nodded, moving his eyes from his glass to meet his future father-in-law's.

"We'll be related soon," Richard said, before taking a swig.

"Yes. Real soon."

"Lorelai is my only daughter. As her father, although she is a grown woman, and Lord knows she's always done things her own way, I have some questions for you."

"Okay." Luke respected Richard's title as father. Especially now, that he held a similar one. But he knew it was a little late for the 'What are your intentions?' interrogation. So Luke wondered where this was going, since everyone knew his intention was to marry Lorelai.

"Tell me about your business," Richard said, putting his glass down, and resting his hands on his lap.

"Uh, my business?"

"Yes, how you started, how it stands now, what your plans are for the future."

Luke took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. "Well, sir…"

"Please, Richard."

"Thank you. Well, Richard, I started a couple years after my father passed away."

"You were a young man then, correct?"

"Yes. I knew that I didn't want to work for anyone else. I also knew that the hardware business wasn't what it once was, with plans for Home Depots to crop up in every city. I did some research, and found out that they had an operation in place to open no less than twenty home improvement warehouses, in Connecticut alone, within the next two decades. A family business can't compete against their volume pricing."

"Right. That's very astute of you," Richard agreed, leaning in. "What made you think of a diner?"

"I knew that I wanted to keep the building. It was almost paid for at the time, and I didn't have the credit history to finance a new business, let alone purchase a new property. I figured people will always have to eat. And our town, as crazy as it is, did some things right. They passed a moratorium on fast food franchises, which of course means I don't have to compete with their multimillion dollar marketing campaigns." Richard nodded as Luke explained his rationale.

"So, I decided on a diner. I took a culinary course, and worked at a friend's restaurant, learning the ropes. You know, how to order, what to order, when to order, all that stuff."

"And your diner is lucrative," Richard said with a finality that let Luke know it wasn't a question.

"Yes, si… Richard."

"And you're in the habit of saving." This was another statement.

Luke nodded.

"Good. Very good. How do you envision the diner in, say, ten years? Or twenty years?"

Luke took a sip, then cleared his throat. "Well, I picture it being as it is now. I'll be there. Maybe I'll have more help as the years go by. But I don't see it changing much." He hoped this was the right answer, because it was the honest answer."

"So you have no plans of expanding, of relocating, or perhaps of franchising?" Richard asked, as if those outcomes were natural extensions for anyone who owned a business.

"To tell you the truth, no." Luke said, "I'm happy with my life, and my business. I have everything I need. The diner gives me just enough of a headache to keep my equilibrium. I don't answer to anyone, and I don't owe anybody anything."

"I have to respect that," Richard said, not the least bit condescending. "What about the Dragonfly? How do you picture it in ten or twenty years?"

Luke let out a deep breath; he hadn't given much thought to the inn's future. "I think you should talk to Lorelai about that, Richard," he said.

"Well, now, if you don't know, then _you_ should talk to Lorelai about it," Richard corrected him.

Luke had to admit that his future father-in-law had a point. They were both so wrapped up in the first year of the inn, that they hadn't stopped to talk about the long-term plans. He knew that there had been several options on the table, but they hadn't discussed them again since Lorelai met with an outside investor months ago. She had decided then that she wanted to keep the inn, but he wasn't sure about her ultimate goals for the place. He didn't know what to say, so he opted to ask a question. It was a trick his father taught him, and it worked every time. "What possibilities for the Dragonfly do _you_ see?"

"Ah, appeal to my ego. Wise move," Richard said, holding up his glass in salute. Luke raised his in kind. "The Dragonfly has many, many possibilities. I'll tell you what I think, if you promise to discuss them with Lorelai tonight. That way you have fewer surprises after the wedding."

"I will," Luke assured, appreciating Richard's guidance more than he ever thought he would.

"Since you're most likely going to be the man of the family, at some point, I'd like to show you something." Luke opened his mouth to protest, but Richard cut him off.

"It's better to be prepared, than not, I always say," Richard proclaimed, as he rose. He opened an intricately carved cabinet door in front of them. Inside the cabinet was a sturdy metal safe that reminded Luke of the one he had in his apartment, except Richard's had a key pad instead of a dial. "This is our document safe. Emily, of course, knows where it is, and Lorelai, too, I presume. It's been here since she lived here, and there was no keeping secrets from that girl.

Luke let out a quiet, knowing smirk.

"In case of a fire, we keep our passports, birth certificates, and insurance policies here, mostly documents that aren't irreplaceable, but would be a nuisance to re-establish. I could tell you red tape horror stories that would make your toes curl. In any event, this really has no value to anyone but the family. Here's the combination, in case I'm not around," Richard said casually, handing Luke a business card with digits written on the back. Luke stared at the combo, with mixed emotions.

"Let me see; where is your copy?" Richard thumbed through a sheaf of papers. "Oh, here it is." He passed Luke a manila envelope. It had Luke's first name written in Emily's meticulous script across the top.

"What's this?"

"Go on, open it."

Luke opened it and read it. His eyes misted over instantly. "But, this… it's way too soon to be even thinking about this."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong. It's never too soon. And with that letter, your daughter, my future granddaughter - no matter what happens to me, or to you and Lorelai, for that matter - will have a spot reserved at Yale."

"I don't know what to say. Thank you," Luke said, his hand resting on his chest, still staring at the lavish Yale Alumni stationery and gold seal. He was clearly touched that April had captured Richard's heart, just as she had his own. "Um," he said, reestablishing his foothold on reality, "would it be alright if we didn't tell her about this? I have no doubt that if she wants to, she could make it on her own. But I want her to work hard, so she'll appreciate it. Even though _I_ appreciate, and accept this 'insurance policy' that you're giving her."

Richard laughed. "Of course, I don't mind. We didn't tell Rory, either, although she was a shoe-in. It was satisfying to watch her put her nose to the grind stone. It assured us that she was completely prepared for the rigors of the Ivy League.

_The Ivy League,_ Luke thought. Richard had just given April a gift more precious than anyone in his family ever had. And if she worked hard and wanted it, she could have it. He had pride, but not enough to deny his daughter an opportunity like this.

"I have no doubt about April, either, and I mean this. I wouldn't have written this letter for just any granddaughter. If she had been bright, but not brilliant, I'd have hooked her up with someone from _Wesley_." Richard laughed heartily.

Luke, figuring it was some highbrow rivalry, laughed too.

"Now, about the possibilities for The Dragonfly," Richard began.

Luke, still clutching the letter, took a drawn out swill, and settled in. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

~*~*~

TBC


	14. Chapter 14 What's Mine is Ours

**Fight for Us**

**Ch. 14 – What's Mine is Ours**

**~*~*~**

**A/N:** Once again, I have to thank my awesome, beta **Jewels12** for doing a fantastic job betaing this chapter for me. Your feedback is so important to me, I can't express what an honor it is to have you read, and contribute to my stories. You've been an inspiration, and I thank you so much.

Hey, **JavaCat!** Thanks for being so supportive of my stories. You really make my day!

**~*~*~**

When Lorelai reached Luke's place, there were several boxes waiting for her at his door. Caesar had already brought them up, as Luke had asked. She used her key to let herself in, kicking some boxes ahead of her, and dragging some others behind as she staggered in, cursing and tripping. She paused in the middle of the room and spun on her heels, wondering where to begin.

Lorelai looked around Luke's cluttered, but neat apartment. It was no secret that between the two of them, he was the tidier, by far. She thought that was probably true of their minds, as well. But she supposed that bit of information would never need to be announced. Besides, with his concrete-linear thinking, she figured he'd already be privy to that little slice of insight. There was no hiding the fact that her brain fell under the category of diehard abstract-random. Theirs certainly was a case of polar opposites attracting.

She looked around at the framed photos he had displayed in the room. She'd been in this apartment hundreds of times, but she was usually with Luke. If he wasn't with her, then she was most likely sleeping until the alarm woke her, and she had to high-tail it to her place to get ready for work, without a moment to spare.

Alone in his domain, she took a moment to really observe his space. It was cozy, masculine, and warm. She felt safe, nestled there in the midst of all of Luke's possessions. The family photos that, at first glance, seemed to be haphazardly placed, were actually grouped among other mementos that held meaning for him. He had several pictures of Liz and him when they were small, usually on outings with their parents, and always smiling. There were also shots of him partaking in numerous outdoor activities, such as fishing, skiing and hiking. Each revealing a different facet of Luke's past. Most of them were taken before his time was constrained by the responsibilities of owning the diner.

And he had dozens of framed art pieces on his walls. They didn't seem expensive, but they each had an interesting quality about them. Lorelai ran her fingers over a unique frame, and smiled at the line drawing of a rainbow trout. It was so traditional, yet so entirely Luke, that she imagined it had always been in the exact spot where it hung. She could also visualize it hanging at their house, and she knew just the place for it.

Looking at the trophy case was like walking through a "This is Your Life, Butch Danes" episode. He had rows upon rows of shiny trophies, jammed next to each other so closely, that she had to be careful not to knock the others over when she lifted one with the figure of a runner, poised, mid-stride on top. There were likenesses of athletes in dozens of postures, batting, running, and jumping. They were for every track and field event conceivable, at the local, state, and regional level. Brushing a fine film of dust off the placard that had his name on it, she read, "1st Place. 1981, All County, Varsity Track Meet."

As she carefully placed it back in its spot, she wondered which trophies he was most proud of, and which he'd want to display prominently at their house. It was easy for her to imagine Luke as a teen, so intent and focused on the task at hand, just beginning to develop the masculine swagger that he honed over the years. She wondered if he thought he'd stay in Stars Hollow, of if he ever imagined his wife would be someone who was as crazy about him as she was.

Glancing around and appreciating his apartment, Lorelai realized that she needed him to expound on these items, which were much more than mere things. They represented his life, and his parents' lives. Suddenly, she was overcome with a wash of emotion. This was more than Luke's apartment, this was Luke's _home._ She was in love with the person who magneted her silly birthday poem on his refrigerator, and the man who kept a throw on the back of the couch because she was always freezing, even though he was usually warm. The same man who hooked up a TV in his bedroom, even though he could fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He did this for her, he explained, because he loved having her near him.

Her heart raced erratically just thinking about the man who owned the most obnoxious plaid sheets she had ever seen, but who made her forget all about them, at his first tender touch. She loved him so much that emotions sprang to her eyes, and she could scarcely breathe. The reality, that in just a few weeks he would be her husband, was finally sinking in.

The furniture here, which seemed dark at first glance, was actually made of good quality, solid wood. Given enough space around it, any piece could be comfortably incorporated into the décor of their house, or even at the inn. There was no way she could choose what to take without knowing what each piece meant to him. This wasn't her decision to make alone, but if it were, she'd choose it all. She wanted all of him. She longed for the walls to absorb her, and to incorporate her, just as they had all of the things that Luke loved.

Standing near the closet, Lorelai could detect the hint of Luke's fragrance as she ran her fingers across the long sleeves of his flannels. She lifted the garments to her face, and inhaled deeply, realizing that bringing Sookie up to help was about as good an idea as filling the Hindenburg with hydrogen. She'd explain it to her best friend as soon she arrived, she decided, meanwhile, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Sookie was so late. Instead of packing, they'd go straight to lunch; she'd even talk about the wedding if she had to distract her. When Lorelai heard the footsteps on the stairs and the door open softly, she said, "Hey, Sookie! I don't need any help after all."

"See, I was right; you don't want any of my junk." His deep voice caught her off guard and her face erupted into a smile that reached her eyes. She dropped his shirtsleeves, and without hesitation, ran to him. He had just enough time to set down his golf bag before she threw her arms around his neck. He automatically returned the embrace. They held each other for a few moments, before Lorelai breathed, "You're back!"

"Yeah, I'm back," he said, stroking the back of her hair affectionately. "This is a nice greeting."

"I missed you so much," she said, holding him tighter.

He smiled. "I missed you, too."

"Yeah?" she asked, holding his face in both of her hands. "I'm so sorry."

He rested his hands on hers. "Sorry about what? Did something happen?"

"No. It's just… I've been looking around…"

"… and none of this stuff fits," he finished.

"No. It's not the stuff. It's… I'm sorry that you have to move. When we were looking for a new home one that could be _ours,_ I refused to leave my house. And you didn't complain; you just made my place work for both of us. And, now that I really look at your home, with all the memories here, I realize that you must love this place. But you're willing to leave it. I didn't even think about how you'd feel."

He hugged her closer. "Lorelai, the walls aren't the key ingredient here. This was never meant to be my permanent home. It was convenient, and the price was right. You know how set I am in my ways. The years went by and I didn't see any reason to move, until now." His velvety soft lips caressed her cheek.

"So, you don't mind moving?"

"Moving my possessions isn't a big deal. My life is with _you_. My home is with _you_. Wherever you are, that's where I want to be. And your house happens to be a lot bigger than mine, so we'll make our home there."

"So, you're not attached to this place?"

"I'm not as attached to it as I am to you," he said, reeling her back in for a reassuring hug.

She laughed into his chest and let out a muffled, "Literally."

He grinned and eased up on his grip. "How about if you call Sookie and tell her that _I'm_ going to help you pack?"

"I don't know. She'll be bitterly disappointed," Lorelai teased. "She was really looking forward to checking out your spice rack." He shook his head while she baited him. "Is Patty still down there? Maybe she can help. She always wanted to peek inside your drawers."

"Aw, jeez," he muttered. "Let's order lunch, then we'll go through the apartment together."

"Yes. I'll call Sookie, then get us some food. You can change out of those preppy clothes, if you want."

"Oh, I want," he said, already lifting his stiff, new golf shirt over his head.

~*~*~

Lorelai returned with plates of food, chattering as she entered. "Well, Sookie wasn't too terribly disappointed. It turns out that she fell asleep waiting for Jackson to get home. That's why she was so late. She wouldn't have been able to make it anyway." Luke was sitting on his couch near an old, battered leather suitcase, surrounded by piles of photographs. "Hey, you got started without me," she said, frowning as she placed the plates down on the table.

"Not really. I knew all along that I'd bring these," he said, picking up a stack of black and white glossies and bringing them to the table.

"I haven't looked at these in ages," he said, smiling at the memories. "I always liked this one." He handed her a photo of a young couple, looking every bit the American dream in the early '60's. A man, with a brush cut and a smile, stood behind a beaming woman, his chin on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her protectively. She wore her hair cut bluntly and flipped up at the ends. Her hands were resting lightly on his upper arms. They were obviously in love. "These are my folks. This was taken on their first wedding anniversary. They didn't know it yet, but she was pregnant with me."

Lorelai inspected the photo, sensing their energy jumping right off the paper. "You look just like your dad. Did he have blue eyes?"

"Yeah, he had a fair complexion. I got his eyes, but the rest of my coloring is from my mom."

"She was beautiful," Lorelai said of the woman whose only adornments were her shining wedding ring and sparkling gemstone earrings.

Luke nodded. "Here's another one, about a year later."

"Oh my god! Look at that chubby baby!" she cooed, smiling brightly at the image of the young couple adoring their new son.

After admiring a few more photos, they turned their attention to lunch and ate leisurely, spending time together as Luke shared photos of his home, his family, and his life. She asked questions, and he answered as best he could. He gave anecdotes and background stories to many of the pictures. Luke had an excellent memory and frequently recalled the events leading up to many of the snapshots. Lorelai recognized several of the pieces of furniture and wall hangings in photos that were taken inside the Danes home. She had the feeling that their newly redecorated house was going to be a lot cozier once they moved him in.

When they were finished, and had cleared the table, they piled the pictures and put them safely back in the suitcase. Luke placed it near the door. It would be the first item to come home with them.

"Hey, what's with the really tall card catalog over there? I always wondered about that." Lorelai pointed to the large chest with dozens of small, deep drawers that dominated the living area of his place.

"Yeah, it does look like a card catalog, doesn't it? I think it's called an apothecary chest. But it's really just a place to keep little pieces of hardware, like nuts and bolts. It was needed in the hardware store, but I couldn't use it in the diner. For some reason, I had it moved up here. And, well, there it sits."

"What's in it now?" she asked, moving closer to take a look.

"Probably still some screws and things."

She stifled a snort. "Screws!"

He rolled his eyes as he approached the piece.

"I've always thought it was interesting. What can we use it for?" she asked, standing beside him, her fingers skimming along the drawer pulls.

"I have no idea," he said, opening some of the narrow drawers, and finding a few pieces of hardware and obsolete keys, but most of them came up empty.

"Well, we'll think of something," Lorelai declared. "It's way too cool to be locked up here all alone."

He turned to face her, and said in a sincere voice, "Lorelai, you don't have to do this."

"Do what?"

"Find a place for all my stuff, just because it has a history."

"I know, but I love your history," she responded with an exaggerated pout.

He slid his hand over her arm. "You do?"

"Yeah. It lets me feel connected to you. Like, somehow I missed out on a huge part of your life, and you telling me about it makes me feel closer to you."

"You didn't miss much," he said with a touch of self-deprecation.

"Speaking of history, you remember the first time we made love?" she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Of course I do. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

"Or your hands." She gestured to his hands that had migrated from her forearms, almost to her shoulders.

"Or my hands." He nodded his agreement with a smile.

"It was right here, in this very apartment," she hinted.

"On that very bed," Luke said, casting a glance toward his neatly made bed.

She moved in closer to him and looked up with a seductive grin. "Well, isn't that a coincidence?"

"It sure is," he said, resting his forehead against hers. They stood, leaning against each other for several beats.

Lorelai lifted her head and asked, "Were you nervous?"

"No. I wasn't nervous," he scoffed.

"Not even a little bit?"

Maybe a little," he admitted.

"What were you nervous about?"

"Lorelai," he said, slightly embarrassed.

"Come on. I never thought big, strong, macho man in plaid, Luke Danes would be nervous."

"I just… I didn't want to ruin everything. You know, our friendship."

She prodded, "What else were you thinking?"

"You really want to know?

"Don't hold out on me now, Danes."

"Okay. I couldn't get over the fact that I was finally with you. You were so beautiful, and you actually wanted to be with me. I was also thinking that it was so right between us."

"It was," she agreed.

"I remember I kept trying to tell myself to take it slow."

Lorelai laughed softly. "But I wasn't very patient."

"No, you weren't very patient."

"Did I ruin it for you, by rushing things?" she asked, concern creasing her forehead.

"Are you kidding? There was nothing you could have done to ruin it. I was already in love with you."

"You were?"

"I was."

"You were so sweet, and thoughtful, and _prepared_," she said, remembering fondly.

"I'm glad we don't have to worry about those preparations anymore."

"Yeah, me too," she said thoughtfully. "Luke?"

"Yeah."

"We should talk about that."

"Oh? Okay."

"My prescription for birth control will be used up this month. And, well, I didn't get the prescription filled. I wasn't sure what to do." She watched his face to see any kind of reaction. His opinion wasn't immediately apparent, so she added, "I could still get them. It's not too late. I'd just have to go to the pharmacy."

He considered her words for a few moments. "So, you want to stop taking the pill?"

"They'll run out in about a week," she said, then held her breath.

He tucked a strand of hair gently behind her ears, so he could see her eyes when he asked, "Then you could get pregnant?"

She nodded.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes, but only if you want it, too. There are two of us… " she started, but his kiss interrupted her. It was a tender, loving kiss that held a tight lid of control over the passion beneath it. She allowed his lips to caress hers, then she gave way to them not merely covering, but possessing her own. He still took her breath away after all this time together. From the first passion-filled kiss on the Dragonfly's porch, to this one. She felt herself melt into him, as he changed the angle of his head and deepened the contact. His arms encircled her waist and hers met his, as her lips parted and she invited him to taste her. They remained savoring each other for several minutes, remembering how this entire relationship was changed with just one kiss.

"You want to have a baby?" he asked, whispering between kisses.

She filled his heart when she said, "I want to have _your_ baby."

He held her face in his hands, and stared into her eyes. Then, deliberately and slowly, he covered her mouth again. They exchanged one sweet kiss after another. Kisses filled with the promise of love, and a life, and a future together. Her knees almost buckled as he crushed his mouth to hers. The space between their bodies disappeared as the intensity heated up.

"So I take it you like the idea?" she asked.

He blinked slowly, and hugged her to his chest. Nodding before he could choke out a single word: "Yes."

**~*~*~**

"We didn't do much packing today, did we?" Lorelai said, snuggling deeply into the side of Luke's body, with her head on his shoulder.

"Nope," he exhaled.

"We should get some things boxed up. Don't you think?"

"Yep."

She kissed his arm and smiled. "Oh, I almost forgot. After we make love, you only have enough energy for monosyllabic grunts."

"Mmmpfff," he groaned playfully, rolling on his side to pull her in closer.

"See what I mean?"

He nodded, burying his face into her hair.

"I guess I could ask you for anything right now, and you wouldn't be able to deny me."

"Ya think?" his muffled voice resonated against her throat.

"Oh, almost _two_ syllables. Folks, he's bouncing back." She giggled. "Can we have doves at the wedding?

He lifted his head. "Doves?"

"I don't mean squab, either, so you can keep your shot gun in the cabinet – yeah, that was dirty. I'm talkin' white symbols of peace, that we and the guests release, and lucky you can get to say an impromptu poem, and do an interpretive dance, as they fly off into the sunset…"

He looked at her with tightly knit brows.

"… in honor of our everlasting love… an eternity of happiness and… not buying it? Huh?" She laughed.

He shook his head.

Lorelai gave off an exaggerated sigh of dejection, "I've lost my touch."

"You've lost it, all right." He rolled his eyes and hugged her.

"And, he's back, ladies and gentlemen."

They laughed softly together.

"Oh, what about butterflies?"

"Lorelai!" he growled an affectionate warning.

"Okay, I'll stop." She giggled. "You didn't tell me how golfing went with my father." She turned to her side, resting her head on her arm, so she could admire him while listening.

"Oh, your father."

"Yeah, six-four, bow tie, look of disappointment permanently etched on his face. Can't miss him."

Luke chuckled. "He doesn't wear a tie while he's golfing. And he didn't seem to be disappointed in either of us today."

"Really, what did you do? Sink a putter?"

"That's 'sink a putt'. And yes, I did sink several putts. But he was more interested in the Dragonfly. I'm supposed to ask you what your plans are for it. Long term."

"Oh. He gave you an _assignment_? And you talked about The Dragonfly?" She propped her head up higher, with her elbow on the bed, so they were both on their sides, facing each other.

"Among other things. But, I realize we," he moved his hand, pointing to her, then to himself, "haven't talked about it in a while. Richard mentioned tons of options. You can sell it, accept outside investors, consult for other operations, open new inns, expand the one you have, franchise it, or turn it into a chain."

"Say it ain't so!" she gasped, in mock horror. "You've been Gilmored!"

"You have to admit, he makes a good point. There are so many ways you can go. I had no idea. I think we should talk about it, you know, before the wedding."

"Okay, the inn," she said, taking a more serious tone. "I want to keep it, just as it is, for a long time. _Maybe_ we'll consider expanding, once we have more than one weekend in a row at full capacity."

He let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. "Good. Keeping it is good," he said, picking up a lock of her hair and twirling it through his fingers.

"And I don't want to go anywhere. I want to be with you," she said softly, closing her eyes to relish the sensation of him toying with her hair.

He tugged on another lock and twisted it the same way. "You sure? Because we can postpone the whole trying to have a baby thing. I know this inn has been your dream, so if you have your heart set on expanding, or consulting.… "

"No!" She shook her head adamantly.

"I just want to see you happy. And I don't want you to feel limited, just because I'm set in my ways."

"I have my heart set on _you_." She looked at him and placed her palm on his cheek. "And if we're lucky enough, on our baby."

He pulled her in closely, and kissed her forehead. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"I love you," he whispered huskily into her forehead.

"Babe, you have no idea," she replied. They held each other, eyes stinging and filled with emotion. Lorelai rested her head on his chest, entranced by the beating of his heart.

His quiet, but definitive words resonated through his chest. "I'm going to the groundbreaking at Yale on Friday."

"You are?" She looked up at him apprehensively. "Um, you know he'll be there, right?" she confirmed, not daring to mention Rory's father by name.

"I know."

"Nobody would hold it against you if you passed."

"I don't need to pass. I'm going for Rory, for April, and for you."

"Your girls." She smiled lovingly at him.

With a single nod, he said, "My girls."

Lorelai reflected back to the insecurities that Rory divulged about the status of her relationship with Luke. She worried about her daughter feeling upset that she was losing Luke as a father figure, now that he knew about, and was being such a great dad to April.

"Hey, Luke. When you see Rory, do you think you could yell at her?" she asked leisurely.

"Why would I yell at Rory?"

"Maybe just snap at her, bark at her, use an excessive amount of sarcasm?"

"What are you talking about?" he groused.

"Boss her around? Give her some unsolicited advice; embarrass her in front of all her friends?

"Lorelai?" he said, clearly perplexed.

She took a deep breath and plunged forward, "Hunker down, Honey. We have one more item on the agenda."

"Aw, jeez," he said, dreading the notion.

~*~*~

TBC


End file.
